Sweet Surrender
by larkgrace
Summary: A collection of Zarter one-shots; these are just for when I'm bored, so don't expect regular updates. Twenty-six: Valentine's Day! (and announcements)
1. Sweet Surrender

**Hello! I'm new to the Kane Chronicles fandom—although I have read the **_**Reading the Red Pyramid **_**story. I guess you should know that I'm a Sanubis fan, 'cuz Walt is MINE. And obviously I luurve Zarter. So…yeah. I'll stop. Enjoy!**

**I don't own…sadly.**

O-o-O

Zia stepped onto the balcony outside Carter's bedroom, her eyes wide on his back. Carter was facing the sunset, leaning against the rail; her attention was momentarily captured by the way the sun shone through his dark curls.

_Stop it,_ she told herself, _you will not surrender to this._ She would not surrender to these feelings that welled up in her chest; feelings that made her whole body feel warm…

"Carter?" she called. He jumped and almost fell into the East River. "Sorry."

"Zia? How did you…"

"Get in? Khufu. Although he _did_ warn me to be careful near the railing. He gave me a lecture."

Carter smiled and complained, "Am I the only person around here who can't speak baboon?"

"Sadie can't," Zia reminded him.

"She doesn't count; she _is_ a baboon. So what do you need?"

Zia leaned against the door and refused to meet Carter's eyes. "You know how I was talking to you that day in Cairo? How I said I needed to decide?"

"Sure," Carter whispered, his voice thick. "I remember."

"Well, I've been thinking, and…"

"Yeah?"

Could she tell him without hurting him? She didn't want to hurt him like that, didn't want to see his heartbroken face and know that she had caused him such pain…

_Why did she care?_ Why did she care about this so much, this justification of reasons to put off the final words that would shatter her heart—no, _Carter's_ heart. She didn't want that either. She loved Carter—just as a friend, as a brother, as a colleague. That was it. Never mind that thinking about him made her heart race; that didn't mean anything, surely.

Carter frowned at her and asked, "Zia?" But she missed the concerned tone of his voice, because she was momentarily distracted by his lips and the way one corner pulled down farther than the other. She found herself leaning closer to Carter and quickly pulled back, watching a flicker of dejection play across his face as she backed away.

No. She would not hurt Carter like that; he didn't have to know. She turned to leave and called, "Nothing. Never mind; it's nothing."

She was almost gone, almost gone, and when she was alone she could reconcile with these feelings of pain and loss that she didn't understand. But Carter put a hand on her arm, stopping her, and her heart leaped in her chest. _You cannot surrender… _

Why did she stop breathing when Carter turned her around and she saw him glow in the last vestiges of the dying sun? She shouldn't feel this way; she couldn't allow herself to…_love_ him.

"Zia…tell me. You know you can tell me anything," he whispered. She tried not to think about how warm his hand felt on her skin—and failed, but you had to give her credit for trying.

"I'm afraid to tell you," she breathed back, eyes dropping to the ground.

"Afraid? Why?"

"I think it might…hurt you."

She felt his whole body tense in response.

"Tell me anyway."

"Carter—"

"Just tell me, Zia. I can handle it."

She took a deep breath, placing the stake carefully in the fissure in Carter's heart that she created with every word. She raised the mallet and readied to strike as she looked him in the eye and barely murmured, "Those memories, about everything…about us…those memories…" She allowed tears to trickle from her eyes as she struck and heard two hearts break. She told him, "Those memories aren't mine."

Carter's hand seemed to turn to ice. He took a deep breath and slowly backed away from her. "Of…of course. I understand," he said, sounding mechanical and numb.

Zia wanted to reach out and comfort him as he sat on a lawn chair and glared at his hands.

_So why didn't she?_ Why didn't she comfort him, hold him, love him? Because she did love him, she did, and she had been such a fool to convince herself otherwise, so _stupid_ that she had made Carter look like a genius. Her will crumbled as she strode to the chair and sat close to Carter, closer than general friendship usually allowed, because she wanted so much _more_ than that. She wanted more than the empty, tense space she usually placed between them, more than the barriers that were a last-ditch effort in stopping her inevitable surrender. More than the awkward conversations and calculated avoidances; more than the careful habit of never looking each other in the eyes unless courtesy absolutely demanded it.

She wanted more. She wanted _him._

Zia placed a finger under Carter's chin and slowly lifted it until she was looking directly into his tear-filled eyes and thought her heart might very well burst. "They aren't my memories," she whispered, leaning closer, "but we can always make our own."

She couldn't be sure who had kissed who, but it didn't really matter. What _did _matter was that her free hand held Carter's and it felt very, very nice. And while they were holding hands and kissing Zia was also crying, but they were tears of relief, because she could feel their shattered hearts beginning to mend; not just the wounds she had caused, but the pain of their parents' deaths and the destruction of her village and Carter's fears for the safety of everyone he loved—and now, she realized, she fit into that category too. He loved her, and she loved him, and just _maybe_ everything was going to work out now. Because for the first time in a long time she felt truly safe from everything as Carter untangled his fingers from hers and lifted her into his lap, winding his arms around her. Safe at last.

"Carter, I—oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Carter and Zia very nearly flew to opposite ends of the lawn chair as Walt stopped in the doorway, his expression a mixture of amusement and disgust and embarrassment. Zia had to touch her own cheek and make sure it hadn't actually caught fire, she was blushing so fiercely.

"Uh, sort of," Carter said, and when Zia glanced at him his face was beet red. "Did you need something?"

"Nothing important," Walt smiled, "I'll ask you later, since you're, um…_busy."_ He backed through the other room and into the hallway, not-so-subtly closing the door behind him as he called "Have fun, you two!"

Carter and Zia stared at each other for a full five seconds before they burst out laughing.

It was the strangest thing—this moment felt so right to her, even though six months ago she could have never foreseen it: sitting on a rooftop in the Twenty-First Nome, laughing after kissing Carter Kane.

He slid down to her end of the chair, wrapping his arms around her in a gesture that was not quite a hug and made her feel warm. She gladly returned the embrace, sliding her arms around his neck and resting her head on his chest.

They sat like that for a few minutes, until Carter's mouth found her ear and he whispered, "So, where were we?"

Zia pulled back and smiled at him. "If you want to kiss me again," she informed him, "you can just kiss me."

"I might have to take you up on that," he joked. He pressed his lips to hers.

After a while, Carter broke off and rested his chin on her head. He played with her hair but didn't say anything, even though something was obviously on his mind, and Zia didn't ask.

"Why did you change your mind?" he finally murmured into her hair.

"About what?"

"Me," he explained. "Us. You really didn't want this—I could tell. But then you changed your mind…"

"It hurt," she said. "It hurt you, and it hurt me, and I guess I'd sort of been lying to myself about how I really felt—I didn't want to love you, but I finally decided to…give up."

Carter shrugged, "Good enough for me," and started kissing her again. Zia didn't mind, but she was curious, so she shoved him off. "What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"Well, I wanted to make sure you actually liked me, instead of just pretending to do it out of pity," he said. "Your feelings are important to me, Zia."

"Right now, I actually feel very good."

"Shall we keep it that way?" Carter shifted her back into his lap, and Zia responded with a contented "Mmm…"

"Thought so," he chuckled, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

She had told herself many times never to give up, never to accept defeat; its taste was bitter. But _this_ was truly a sweet surrender.

O-o-O

**Me again.**

**Zia, dear, Zia: you're an idiot. We all know you love Carter and IF THEY DON'T GET TOGETHER IN THE NEXT BOOK I'M GONNA HURT SOMEBODY.**

**What? Did you hear something? *whistles…* **


	2. Love the Way You Lie

**Me again…this is SORT OF a songfic to 'Love the Way you Lie' although I'm not putting the lyrics in. But listen to the song while you read and you'll get the gist of it. It takes place BEFORE Sweet Surrender, just so you don't get confused. **

**Oh, and I got so many reviews on the last chapter it was scary. You guys are the best :)**

**Still don't own…**

O-o-O

Sadie could tell her brother was in love.

It was _beyond_ obvious. The way he was always so polite around Zia, how he always blushed when she spoke to him (which was rare) and how he got that pathetic dreamy look in his eyes when she was near. It made Sadie a little nauseous. Even so, there was always a little tension around them, and once in a while their tempers would boil over. But Sadie had never been truly scared of either of them until the fight on the terrace.

She was attempting to repair the damage from one of the students' spells gone awry when she heard the yelling.

Sadie immediately crept to the doorway to watch the argument; it was the only decent form of entertainment in Brooklyn House these days, and she knew it was harmless and would blow over soon. Of course, the fights probably could have gotten much worse, but Carter always stopped them and got Zia calmed down pretty quickly. This time, however, things seemed a little more heated.

"…would just leave me alone!" Zia's voice yelled. "I don't need you always trying to take care of me!"

"I'm not, Zia, would you just calm down for a second?"

"I will not calm down! Don't you tell me what to do, Carter Kane!"

"I'm not trying to tell you what do! I just think you're being irrational!"

"Well, you would know _all_ about that!"

Zia was standing on tiptoe so that she was at eye level with Carter, who had backed up against the railing overlooking the East River. Carter looked a little exasperated, while Zia was just angry.

"I don't need you for protection, Carter!"

"I never said you did!"

This was totally out of character for Sadie's brother, but he seemed to be getting just as angry as Zia. His hands were gripping the bars with all his might, and when he flexed his fingers, she could see the metal bend.

"In fact, I don't need you _at all!"_

"Fine! Then I guess you would have preferred it if I left you in that tomb!"

"Maybe I would have!"

Sadie cut in. "Guys, you both need to stop. Now," she commanded.

In unison, the not-so-lovebirds turned on her. "Stay out of it, Sadie!" they shouted. Suddenly she understood why Carter was acting so strange—because Carter's eyes were flickering gold and silver. Horus' temper was provoking him, and she had to stop it, but she didn't know how to do it without making them both angrier.

And then it was too late, because they were both yelling again, and Sadie was afraid that Carter might really hurt Zia, but almost immediately realized that wasn't going to happen. Carter was holding himself back with all his might, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. Sadie could almost understand her brother's thoughts: he _wanted_ to hurt Zia. He wanted her to feel pain, the same pain he felt when she rejected him…but he wasn't going to.

Zia was shouting something at him, and Sadie could tell that she was _really_ mad because there were flames flickering on her palms. And then Carter yelled back at her, and Zia slapped him across the face.

Carter sank to his knees, looking shocked as he cradled his cheek, which had violent burn marks on it. Zia stumbled backwards, choking on her own tears as she reached out and cried, "Carter! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—" before she wheeled and sprinted into the house.

*#*#*

Carter and Zia hadn't spoken once in the hour since their fight, and it was starting to worry Sadie. All they'd done was sit in the Great Room on separate couches, with Carter icing his cheek and Zia burying her face in a pillow. They _did_ eat dinner together, but never even glanced in each other's direction, and they didn't say a word to anyone, not even when the initiates asked Carter what had happened to his face. Carter vanished inside before he'd eaten all of his food, but Zia lingered out on the terrace long after she was finished and grabbed Sadie's arm as she prepared to leave.

"Sadie? Please. I need to talk to you," she pleaded. She looked horrible, with her eyes puffy and red from crying all day.

"Of course," Sadie said, though she had no idea what this was about. Zia looked so pitiful, though, that she couldn't say anything but yes.

"Sadie, I need you to forgive me," she moaned. "I feel so horrible—I never meant to hurt him—I don't know what happened—please, forgive me," she managed to whisper between sobs.

Sadie blinked. This was _not_ what she had expected. "Zia, I've already forgiven you," she said, "but that doesn't matter. You need to talk to Carter."

"But I can't; he won't talk to me."

"Because you haven't tried! Just talk to Carter; he's not one to hold grudges. It'll be fine."

Zia dropped her eyes and muttered, "I'll think about it."

Sadie sensed that this was the best she was going to get, so she let Zia retreat inside.

*#*#*

She awoke to footsteps in the hallway. And, Sadie being Sadie, had to check it out.

There was nothing—and no one—unusual that she noticed, until she looked at her brother's bedroom door and found it wide open. Carter always closed his door at night, a habit made by a lifetime of living in hotel rooms. Something was up.

Sadie tiptoed to the doorway and carefully peeked around the corner. There was Carter, tangled up in his blankets, his fist tight around one of the sheets and his face contorted in pain. Kneeling over his sleeping form was Zia, in her linen pajamas, with her hair a complete mess on one side, like she'd been twisting it—a nervous habit of hers that Sadie had noticed a few weeks ago. She was staring at Carter, chewing her lip as if she was debating something. Then she sighed, closed her eyes, and stretched out her hand.

Water welled up in her palm, though it had no source, and collected there until it was a tiny shimmering puddle. Then Zia flipped her hand and poured the water on Carter's cheek, placing her palm there and holding it. Strangely, the water didn't run or spill over, but soaked into Carter's blistered skin much faster than what should have been possible. Slowly, Zia's fingers traced patterns over the burns, which faded before disappearing altogether.

Sadie looked on in awe. How had Zia done that?

_It is the power of Nephthys, _Isis' voice whispered. _Water can quench fire easily._

She supposed it made sense. Sadie was about to retreat when there was another movement from inside Carter's room. Her brother reached up and laid his hand over Zia's, trapping hers on his cheek.

"Zia?" he moaned, his eyes fluttering. "What…?"

"It's nothing," she whispered in the dark, "go back to sleep."

Carter nodded, but then leaned up and gave Zia a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Thanks," he sighed, slumping back on his pillow and closing his eyes again.

Zia smiled, waiting until Carter's breathing had slowed before she pecked his forehead and whispered, "You're welcome."

Sadie crept back into her own room before anyone could spot her. As she slipped between the sheets, her last thought was, _Not speaking, my butt._

O-o-O

**All together now: AAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW!**

**Cuteness :)**

**Read and review!**


	3. Coming Home

**Part three! Yay! More Zarter! **

**Quick summary: the battle with Apophis was nearing, and the magicians chickened out and basically put the Nomes in "lockdown", not allowing anyone in or out, but Carter and Sadie snuck out anyway—and left Zia behind. So this is them returning to the First Nome after kicking Apophis's scaly butt. And yes, in my imagination Carter and Zia have gotten together by now. Enjoy :)**

O-o-O

_I'm coming home, coming home,_

_Tell the world that I'm coming home,_

_Let the rain wash away_

_All the pain of yesterday_

_I know my kingdom awaits_

_And they've forgiven my mistakes_

_I'm coming home, coming home,_

_Tell the world I'm coming…_

Carter had never been more exhausted in his life, and that included waking up after being bitten by the two-headed snake. He stumbled across the rope bridge spanning the chasm and nearly tumbled over the side, but Sadie grabbed him by the shirt collar. He shook his head and pressed on, his weary feet catching on the boards.

He didn't get it. He shouldn't be this tired; he and Sadie had taken an almost twenty-four-hour nap. This was a different kind of tired. He felt emotionally tired, like all feeling had been sucked out of him. He wanted to lay down right where he was and not move.

Sadie pushed him through the gates and onto the huge grand staircase descending into the First Nome's main marketplace. The stairs hadn't been used for a week now, due to the lockdown, so naturally they caught everyone's attention. The soft buzz of whispered conversation slowly died out as they staggered down. One by one, every magician's eyes fixed on them and all their sweaty, blood-soaked glory. A single clap echoed off the high ceilings. Then another. Then a roar of applause was filling the market, and people were dashing up the steps to greet them, yell in their ears, touch them, and Carter ducked out so that he could breathe while Sadie was surrounded by the crowd. He sank onto a step and sighed, rubbing his eyes. He would love nothing more than to close his eyes and make the world shut up. Sadly, he figured that wasn't going to happen.

Carter's eyes fixed on a black speck moving through the crowd at the base of the steps. Zia pushed through, eyes in some scroll, muttering to herself and looking extremely annoyed, and just as tired as Carter. Her linen robes were black—mourning clothes. _She thought they had died._ Her eyes were puffy and red, and she kept wrapping her arms around her chest like she was trying to hold herself together. He saw one of the younger magicians grab her arm and point to the steps. She sighed and glanced up, meeting Carter's eyes.

"_Carter!"_

Her scroll clattered to the ground as Zia sprinted up the stairs, two at a time. She reached him and tackled him, knocking him onto his back.

"Carter Julius Kane, don't you _ever _do that to me again!"

Her amber eyes sparkled, more awake than they had been seconds before. Carter felt more alert, like he had just gotten an adrenaline shock in his veins. He hugged Zia, agreeing, "Yes Ma'am. Not doing that again."

Zia ran a hand through his hair, looking worriedly over his bruised skin. "I know what happened to you…but what _happened_ to you? You're a mess."

"There aren't any showers in the Duat."

"I get that, but you look like you got hit by a truck."

"Yeah, well, Apophis didn't feel like playing nicely. He was so stubborn about _not_ dying. Who would've thought?"

"Idiot."

"Z, I'm glad to see you, but can you get up or scoot over or something? I can't breathe. And I bruised my ribs up."

She sat on the step next to him and watched while he stretched out his stiff joints. Then he fell back on the step, muttering "ow" when the corner dug into his spine.

"In case you wanted to know, I _did_ get hit by a truck."

Zia raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, some demon got a hold of a taco truck and decided it didn't like me. Thank Ra it was too short to press the gas pedal down very far."

"That's just your luck, isn't it?"

"Pretty much."

She touched a bruise on his cheek and he winced, saying, "Can you tell my week hasn't been that great?"

"It looks like you have a lot of owies. Want me to make them better?" Without waiting for an answer, Zia pecked him on the cheek.

Carter smiled and took her hand. "I think my mouth is bleeding. Will you make that better?"

"Of course." They pressed their lips together.

Another magician who was lounging a few steps above them whistled and shouted, "Yeah, get some, Zia!"

A little crowd of onlookers started to gather, cheering and wolf whistling while Carter tucked Zia under his arm. Then Zia pulled back and grabbed Carter's wrist, smiling while she pulled him down the stairs and around a corner, which earned quite a few shouts.

Once they were out of sight, Zia sank to the ground and glared at Carter. "I really, really want to kill you right now."

He sat down opposite her and said, "I'm not confused at all. Thanks for asking."

"I mean it."

"Obviously. What did I do this time? And why did you feel the need to bring me here?"

"I brought you here because if I get any more sympathetic looks I'm going to decapitate someone. With a spoon."

"And you're not going to tell me what I did."

She glared at him, her eyes red and damp. "You went to go fight a _war_ and you left me behind! No note, no message, no goodbye. I thought you had _died,_ for Thoth's sake! And you know that I can fight, you don't have to _protect_ me all the time!"

He cocked his head to the side and considered Zia's red face for a moment. Then he said, "You thought we left you behind to…_protect_ you?"

"What other reason would you have?"

"How about _time constraint?_ It was either drag you out of bed and get locked in or leave and save the world, and I'm sorry, but the world comes first. I didn't want to go—your magic could've made it a lot easier—but we didn't have a choice. I'm really, really sorry, Zia, but we just couldn't do it."

Zia rested her forehead on her knees. "Thanks for making me feel like an idiot."

He held his arms open. "Come here, Idiot."

She crawled across the floor and slid into his arms, stretching her legs out and resting her head on Carter's shoulder. "You going to take a nap?" he asked.

"Maybe. I haven't been getting much sleep."

"Me either, but that's partially the fact that I can't lay down."

"Do I want to know why?"

"Apophis kind of threw me against a wall and I threw my back out."

"Want me to fix it?"

Carter gave her a bemused look. "You can do that?"

"Sure. Roll over."

He stretched out on his stomach, saying, "Do I get a treat if I beg?"

"Shut up." She started slipping her shoes off.

"What are you doing?"

"This." She stood up and stepped on his spine, shifting her weight from side to side. His back started popping like an artillery gun.

"Holy Horus," he moaned, letting his head droop onto the floor. "You have magic feet."

Zia started laughing.

"Well, doesn't this look cozy?"

Walt leaned against the wall, smirking in their direction. "I always manage to walk in during the awkward moments."

Carter grinned. "How does this look awkward? It doesn't seem awkward to me."

"Sure. Your girlfriend standing on you and breaking your back isn't awkward at all."

Carter cracked up, which made Zia wobble and yell, "Hey now! Stop laughing, I'm going to fall over." She stepped off and pulled her shoes back on. Carter stretched and sat up, sighing with pleasure.

"Where did you learn that?" he asked.

"You pick up some weird stuff growing up here."

Walt ducked out as Zia pulled Carter to his feet. He grabbed her hands and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head, and knew he was home.

O-o-O

**AYGHAD I FORGOT THE DISCLAIMER!**

**I don't own anything that might need a copyright sign.**

**Tell me the truth: When Zia pulled Carter into the hall, how many of you were thinking dirty thoughts? You can tell me in a review. Really. I don't mind at all :)**


	4. Put Your Lights On

**WARNING: If you don't like tragedy or character death, you'd best skip this chapter. Just saying.**

**Now that that's out of the way…I don't own anything (still) and I think you'll love this chapter. Note that this is unrelated to the previous chapters. It takes place right after the battle with Apophis, where Carter…well, you'll see.**

**Enjoy :)**

O-o-O

_Hey now, all you sinners,_

_Put your lights on, put your lights on,_

_Hey now, all you lovers,_

_Put your lights on, put your lights on,_

_Hey now, all you killers,_

_Put your lights on, put your lights on,_

_Hey now, all you children,_

_Leave your lights on, leave your lights on…_

A thousand little lights filled the hallway. They danced on the ends of their own candles but could not fill the darkness, nor could they chase the shadows away. The space that was not occupied by light was filled with sounds, whispered from a thousand urgent mouths. Everyone knew the story: the hero was in the healing room, balanced on a knife's edge between life and death, with his sanity slipping away like water held in cupped hands.

Some voices said that he was dying, even now. Others argued that he was just under the surface, ready to wake up. Most said he was trapped in the iron grip of Apophis' spirit.

No one disputed the last one.

_There's a monster living under my bed_

_Whispering in my ear…_

Carter was trapped.

He could feel the scaly coils wrapping around him, pulling him down, down into the endless abyss. Trapped, suffocating, sinking in the dark. He thrashed and struggled, trying to resurface, but the light had vanished a long time ago.

_[Serve me, the voice says. Bow to me. He refuses. The chords pull tighter.]_ He can't break free this time.

_There's an angel with a hand on my head,_

_She says I have nothing to fear…_

Zia refused to leave Carter's side. She knelt by his bed with her own candle burning on the nightstand, casting a weak glow on his fevered face. Her hand stroked his sweaty forehead and ran through his hair, and occasionally brushed Sadie's, which was resting on his chest while she whispered his secret name over and over again. Zia knew it now, and she called to him.

"Come back to me, Brave One," she pleaded. "Come back. You are safe now. You need to come back." Tears spilled over from her eyes and splashed onto the sheet. "Come back to Sadie. Come back to me." She closed her eyes and bent so that her lips brushed his ear. "Come home." _[Because this is their home now, but it's not home without him.]_ "Please, come home."

_There's a darkness deep in my soul,_

_I still got a purpose to serve,_

_So let your lights shine_

_Into my home_

_God, don't let me lose my nerve…_

He could see them. He could not reach them.

He was trapped in a black room, and he could see them all: Zia, Sadie, Walt, Bast, Bes. They were so close, but when he reached out his fingers hit a sheet of glass. He pounded against it, yelling for help, and they stared back at him with expressionless faces. Indifferent. They did nothing to help him. _[They do not care for you, the voice hisses. They are happy to watch you die.]_

On the other side, there was light. They blocked it. He screamed and sobbed and pounded on the glass with bloody hands, tears pouring down his face, and the trails of his blood making lines of desperation and loneliness. He sank to his knees and a trapdoor opened beneath him, leaving two identical clawing lines on the glass splattered with a gore-painted _HELP ME._

He plummeted, and far above the glass shattered.

_Hey now, all you sinners,_

_Put your lights on, put your lights on,_

_Hey now, all you children,_

_Leave your lights on, better leave your lights on… _

Walt knelt beside the door, a tall white candle clutched firmly in his hand. He did not notice the hot wax streaming over his fingers, burning them. His thoughts were with the girls on the other side of the wooden door, with Carter. _[His friend is slipping, he knows it. They can't save him.]_

The crowd had stopped whispering a long time ago. There was nothing left to say. They waited for some sign, a sign of whether the battle was won or lost. Some people rubbed charms around their necks, others scratched hieroglyphs on the dust-covered floor. Walt waited. He listened to the sounds of a silent war in the next room.

_There's a monster living under my bed,_

_Whispering in my ear,_

_There's an angel with a hand on my head,_

_She says I have nothing to fear…_

Zia could feel him die.

A cold breeze swept through the room, making the candles gutter, and a few blew out. His chest stopped rising and falling. His pulse stopped beating in his wrist. _[It feels like a part of her has died, the part that let her drag through the endless days.]_

Sadie raised her head and wiped her red eyes. "We couldn't save him."

Zia pulled Sadie to her feet, reaching across the bed. As she pulled her hand back, she slowly pulled the sheet up so that it covered Carter's face.

She held Sadie as the younger girl started to sob, and led her outside the empty room.

_You shine like stars_

_And fade away…_

The door creaked open, and every face in the hallway turned up in cautious hope. Walt examined the girls' faces as they stepped out, with Sadie staggering on Zia's arm, terrible ripping noises coming from her chest as she sobbed.

Walt stared at Zia, asking a silent question. She looked down and shook her head. He hadn't made it. _[And the world is ripped out from under his feet, because Carter is—was—his mentor, his brother, his friend. Now he is gone.]_

The girls vanished around the corner, and no one wanted to follow them. They could hear Sadie's screams of agony echoing through the halls.

Walt stood up and slipped inside the open door. The healing room seemed dreary, with blank walls and a single bed, containing nothing but a lifeless lump covered in a pristine white sheet. There were two candles on the nightstand, one a shimmering white and the other a dark red. Sadie and Zia's candles. They had both blown out. Walt relit them both with his own tiny flame and left his candle on the table, keeping vigil over Carter's empty shell.

He turned and found Chief Lector Amos standing in the doorway, staring at Carter's body with an expression of horror, though he did not know who was under the sheet. "Who…" he whispered, as if he didn't want to know the answer. Walt just shook his head and brushed past him into the hallway.

He found Sadie and Zia in an alcove a few corridors away, curled up as though they were trying not to fall apart. Sadie was resting her head on Zia's chest, sobbing and screaming. Zia had buried her face in Sadie's hair, and there was a horrible, broken noise coming from her chest, like her pain was clawing its way into the open.

Walt sank onto the floor beside them, placing a hand on Zia's back. She looked over and rested her head on his shoulder, and then Sadie wrapped an arm around him, and suddenly they were clinging to each other, and Walt could feel his torso ripping apart while he choked on his own tears.

And so they held each other as they cried, and together they descended into darkness.

O-o-O

**Feel free to yell at me. I know it was awful.**

**Reviews would be appreciated.**


	5. Swim Lessons

**I'm back. And CARTER'S NOT DEAD! So Zia isn't trying to strangle me anymore. **

**And about that: I seem to have irked a LOT of people with that last chapter and the whole "killing Carter" deal. But I'll have you know that our dear friends Sadie and Zia gave me a nice beating, and Walt sicked his magic camels on me, which is why this update took so long. That, and my computer crashed.**

**But I digress.**

**Warning: Contains Extreme Amounts of Fluff.**

**And yeah, I don't own.**

O-o-O

"_Walt! _If you don't put me down _right now_ I'll _kill_ you!"

Walt laughed and carried the screaming girl to the edge of the pool in a fireman's lift while she punched his back. Then he threw her in with an impressive splash, stepping back to admire his handiwork as she came up spluttering and shrieked, "I'll get you!"

"Wrong person to pick on, Walt," Carter remarked as the girl flicked her hand and blasted Walt in the face with a water spout.

"Water elementalist. Right," he said as the girl smirked.

Zia lounged on a chair and smiled at Carter, opening the book in her lap. Sadie flicked her wet hair out of her eyes and yelled, "Come on in, Zia! We even remembered to take Phillip out this time before we started swimming."

"No thank you," Zia said, turning the page and kicking her sandals off.

"Come on, Z," Carter said, grabbing Sadie's ankle and pulling her off the side of the pool, "The water feels great."

"It's going to be a lot less pleasant for you in a minute," Sadie growled.

"I'm fine out here," Zia repeated.

"Something wrong?" Carter asked, pulling himself up on the side.

"Nothing. I just don't feel like swimming."

"Why is it you never feel like swimming?"

She closed her book and sat up straighter. "I just don't. Is there a problem with that?"

"Not at all," he said, and slipped back in the water. Zia pulled her sandals on and started walking back inside. "Where are you going?"

She smiled at him over her shoulder and said, "Despite the fact that I play with fire on a regular basis, I don't enjoy the feel of a burn—especially sunburn."

Zia curled up on a couch inside and opened her book again, but she couldn't focus on it. She kept glancing out the glass doors at the trainees splashing around in the water. Carter was swimming laps, and the girl that Walt had thrown in earlier—who, come to think of it, looked like a younger version of Sadie—was beating Walt around the head and shoulders with a pool noodle. Zia sighed and rested her chin in her palm, letting the book slide out of her fingers and onto the couch. She watched the others slip in and out of the water, and remembered the rushing Nile river, a warm, calloused hand on her shoulder, young children sloshing through murky water. She smiled fondly as she picked up her book again.

Later, after dinner, she and Carter were sprawled on the living room floor with a five hundred piece jigsaw puzzle and a solemn vow not to go to bed until it was done. Everyone had retreated upstairs except for Walt, who had a charm he wanted to finish before morning. He had vanished into the library an hour ago and there had been no sign of him since, but since there were no explosions, Zia wasn't too worried.

"Any idea where this one goes?" Carter asked her, fingering a piece before passing it across the monstrous pile. Zia took it, examined it for a second, and snapped it into place.

"How are you so good at this?" he asked her, watching as she snapped two more pieces in place.

"Practice."

"Where do you practice _puzzles_ in the First Nome?"

She smiled wryly at him and said, "You don't _honestly_ think I went straight to sleep every lights out, do you?"

"Point taken." They sat in silence and placed a dozen more pieces in the puzzle before he said, "So what was up with you earlier?"

"What was up with me when? You need to be specific."

"At the pool. You seemed ticked, I guess."

"I just didn't feel like swimming. Why won't you let it go?"

He dropped the puzzle piece he was examining—Zia knew where it should go, but had decided to let him figure it out so as not to injure his pride—and said, "Because you have to be more stubborn than that to live with Sadie."

She laid her head on her arms. "You're going to laugh at me."

"Why would I laugh at you?"

She peeked up at him. "I don't know how to swim."

"Why would I laugh about that?" His face was blank.

Zia could feel her cheeks redden. "Carter, I grew up ten feet from a _river_ and I can't swim. How pathetic is that?"

"It's not pathetic." He sat up straight and asked, "Didn't anyone ever teach you?"

She sat up and crossed her legs. "My dad tried a few times, but I could never stand getting in the water. It was always silly things—like being afraid a crocodile would eat me."

Carter laughed and said, "That's actually kind of cute. So you never got over your…dislike of water?"

"It sort of rationalized itself when I became a _fire_ magician."

"Right." He flicked a puzzle piece in her direction, and she absent-mindedly placed it.

"So, how childish do you think I am?" she said, her hands flying and snapping pieces into place.

"It's not childish. Why are you so stressed?"

"What makes you think I'm stressed?"

"I've never seen anyone put a puzzle together at light speed."

"I don't like feeling weak."

He threw a puzzle piece at her head and said, "If there is one person in this room who is weak, I'll go ahead and tell you that said person's name does not start with a _Z. _There are lots of people who don't know how to swim."

"Name one in this house."

"Felix."

"He's _nine._ That doesn't count."

"You're really upset about not being able to swim?"

"I don't like talking about it."

"I'll teach you."

Her head snapped up. _"What?"_

He scooted around the pile so he was sitting next to her. "I said I'll teach you how to swim."

"You don't have to do that." She picked up another piece and snapped it into place.

"I will."

She turned her head enough to see him and said, "Really?"

"Of course." He put his arms around her shoulders. "We can start tomorrow," he started, then glanced at the clock and corrected, "Later today, actually."

"Thank you." She studied the pile of puzzle pieces. "You know, I bet we can have this finished in an hour."

"No way." He leaned forward and exclaimed, "There must be at least two hundred pieces left!"

"Watch the master at work." She grabbed a piece and set it in the proper place.

"Hey! You knew where that went the whole time?"

She bit her lip. "I meant for you to figure that one out. Sorry."

"Oh, you are going to _pay_ for that." He grabbed her waist and started tickling her.

"Stop it!" she shrieked, trying to wiggle out of his grip.

"You two having fun?" Walt asked, hovering in the library doorway with a little smirk on his face.

"I take it you finished your charm," Carter stated, letting go of Zia.

"What does it do?" she asked, punching Carter's arm.

"It's a sleep inducer," Walt said, "and I think I'm going to test it out now," he finished with a massive yawn. "G'night."

"Sweet dreams," she yelled as he trudged up the stairs, which earned her a half-conscious wave.

"And then there were two," Carter said.

"Let's finish this puzzle, shall we?"

*#*#*

"Do I want to know why there's a puzzle on the floor, or not?" Sadie asked as she sat down at the breakfast table with her loaded plate.

Walt flicked a Cheerio across the table and explained, "The lovebirds got bored. How late did you guys stay up to finish it?"

"Not long," Zia said. "I'm good at puzzles."

The little water elementalist girl appeared at the railing the next floor up and yelled, "Hey! Check this out!" She backed up a few steps and ran at the rail, leaping over it and flipping before she landed on the floor below. "Sweet!" she yelled, pulling a charm off her neck and squinting at it, "This thing Bast gave me really does work!"

"And what if it didn't?" Carter asked.

"Okay, I admit I could have thought that out better. But it worked, so I didn't go splat!"

One of the college-age kids sat at the table and said, "I heard a new Egyptian exhibit opened up at the museum. Who's up for a field trip?"

Everyone's hands went up except Carter and Zia's.

Sadie smirked and said, "You two are just going to make out on the couch all day, aren't you?"

Zia shrugged. "I've practically grown up in an Egyptian exhibit since I was eight. They don't interest me much."

"I've seen pretty much everything with my dad," Carter said, "so I really don't care if I go or not."

"Whatever you say."

The group left an hour later, opting to take the portal instead of walking twelve blocks, which meant they would be gone for at least twelve hours.

Carter stood up and said, "You ready for your swim lesson?"

"Absolutely." She ran upstairs and pulled on a swimsuit she'd taken from Sadie's room, then dug out a pair of cotton shorts and pulled them on before dashing back down the stairs to the pool. Carter was already wet, swimming back and forth across the deep end.

"Hi," he said. "Get in."

"Yes sir." She dipped a foot into the water and took three steps into the shallow end before she started to panic. As soon as the water touched her knees, a knot formed in her stomach and her throat started to close up. Another step. The water was now halfway up her thigh; she remembered hearing that it was possible to drown in a teaspoon of water. Step. The water brushed her hips and she stopped; she couldn't go any farther, because she was going to drown and die and _she couldn't do it._

"Something wrong?" Carter splashed to her side and pushed a strand out her eyes.

She looked down at the water that was going to swallow her whole. "I can't do it."

"Come here." He put his hands on her waist and gently pulled her into deeper water. "See? I've got you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I promise."

She bit her lip. "I'm scared."

"Don't be. There's nothing to be scared of."

"Nothing but dying a slow death in a watery grave."

He rolled his eyes and pulled her out until he couldn't touch the bottom anymore. He kept one arm around her so she didn't sink, but he kept going under, and finally he said, "You think you can stay up by yourself?"

"I don't know."

"Try it." He let go of her.

Zia sank until her head was completely submerged, and the panic kicked in. She was going to die down here and what was she thinking, she couldn't breathe because there was no air under water and _she couldn't swim._

Her foot brushed the concrete bottom of the pool, and she instinctively kicked off, propelling herself back up.

"See?" Carter said when she came up spluttering. "You won't drown. You'll be fine."

She pulled herself out of the water and started walking inside. "Where are you going?" Carter asked her, following her to the door.

"I can't do it." She yanked the door open but stopped when Carter put his hand on her shoulder.

"Something's going on."

She started shivering, and Carter wrapped a towel around her shoulders. She leaned against the wall and said, "I had a little brother. Adrian. He was three years younger than me, and the most adorable child…" she smiled at the memory of him laughing and holding her hands. "You remind me of him."

"What happened?"

She sat on the ground and took a deep breath. "He…he drowned. In the river. He was only two." She hung her head. "I was supposed to be watching him while our parents worked in the fields. I only took my eyes off him for a second, but when I turned around he was gone. We never found his body."

When Zia looked up, Carter was kneeling in front of her, horror-struck. She took his hand and said, "Its fine. You didn't know. I don't think about it much, really."

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "I hardly ever think about it. I sort of…blocked it from my memory, I suppose. And we were both so young." It was a complete lie, but she wasn't going to tell Carter that she still fell asleep crying some nights. She just…_missed _him so much. For years after he had died, she had been able to convince herself that he would walk home one night, covered in dust, saying he had gone on an adventure. After all, they had never actually _found_ him, had they?

She stood up and dropped the towel, extending a hand down to Carter and saying, "I still want you to teach me."

He pulled himself up and said, "Of course I will." He pulled her back to the edge of the pool and walked straight over the side of the wall, landing with an impressive splash. She slid in after him and slowly let her fears go.

*#*#*

"We're back!" Sadie yelled as she and the other trainees bounded down the stairs. "What did you two do all afternoon?"

"We swam," Zia said, tossing the senet sticks and bumping one of Carter's pawns back to start. "Sorry."

He took the sticks from her and threw, putting one of his other pieces in the House of Horus. "And then I beat Zia at Monopoly a few times."

"I still don't understand why you would want to _buy _spaces on a game board. It makes no sense." She moved the last of her five pieces off the board and took the chocolate bar from the middle of the table. "I win."

"You guys are boring," Sadie declared. "Anybody want to spar with me?"

"I will," Alyssa said, and the girls vanished into the training room.

The other kids dispersed, and Zia broke the candy bar, giving half to Carter. He raised his piece and said, "A toast to two hours of board games."

She laughed and tapped her own piece against his, taking a bite and letting the chocolate melt on her tongue.

_Adrian tugged on her sleeve and whined, "Zia? Can I have some?"_

_She smiled and broke off a piece of the chocolate her father had given her, which was hard to get this far from a city. Adrian giggled and swallowed the whole thing in one bite._

"_I love you, Sissy," he said, taking another piece of candy from her. She dug her toes into the river mud and said, "I love you too."_

_That was the last time she shared anything with her brother, even a smile._

Carter nudged her leg with his foot. "What's wrong?"

She sighed. "Adrian used to love chocolate."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She grinned at him. "Carter?"

"Yes?"

"I am _so_ going to dunk you tomorrow."

"Is that so?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You couldn't even catch me today!"

"There's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

He laughed along with her as they continued to eat their candy.

_I love you too, Adrian. I'm sorry._

O-o-O

**You'll be reading a lot more about Adrian later ;) **

**So? Love it? Hate it? Thought it was pointless? You can tell me. If nothing else, leave a review in Adrian's memory!**


	6. Beautifully Imperfect

**I sent Carter down to the Land of the Dead to bug Anubis. He got back a minute ago; Adrian says he feels loved. Zia's crying, so you may want to send some tissues in a review. Sadie is giving me puppy dog eyes and asking why **_**she**_** doesn't get to bug Anubis. And Felix is playing with his penguins. Just another average day.**

**ANYWAYS. I decided you guys needed a fluffy chapter to mentally prepare yourselves before…whatever happens next chapter. Which I'm not revealing yet but I **_**know**_** you won't like. **

**Still don't own TKC…**

O-o-O

Zia had her quirks.

Once, Carter came out from the library, only to find Zia sitting outside in the pouring rain, laughing. She didn't seem to be amused by anything in particular, just…happy. He wished he could see her like that more often; with her hair plastered to her forehead and the kohl around her eyes running down her face. She wasn't worried about any war or vengeful gods. She was just enjoying the rain. He sat on the couch and watched her smile, like she was embracing the cold water coming down in sheets over the late-night skyline. When she finally came inside, dripping all over the floor, he asked her what she was doing. _Growing up the way I did, _she said with a smile, _you have to appreciate the little things._

And there was the fact that she seemed to have the world's worst case of insomnia; sometimes he wondered if she ever slept. Many nights he would slip downstairs only to find her curled on a couch, book in hand. She would glance up and smile before going back to reading. He remembered one night in particular he sat beside her and peeked over her shoulder, trying to see what she was reading. She angled the book towards him; it was a poem, titled _The Raven._ He squinted at the tiny print, his eyes still unadjusted to the dark, and she giggled and put her lips to his ear. _Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary…_she whispered. They took turns reciting stanzas back and forth to each other, grinning as they told the story of the demon-possessed bird straight from the Land of the Dead, not even bothering to be frightened by the ghost of the maiden Lenore, whom the angels had named as their own. When, yawning, they both trudged up the stairs, it finally hit him that she'd been reading a ghost story that would've normally scared him to death. Alone. In the middle of the night.

The girl must have been immune to nightmares.

Or maybe, he realized, she wasn't bothered by fictitious ghosts because she had so many of her own. He met her in the library one afternoon, intending to look up any historical references about Apophis they could possibly find, but stopped in the doorway when he saw that she was crying. She had a photograph clutched in her fist, and her free hand was over her mouth, her whole torso shaking. He walked behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she shoved him off and ran out of the room, leaving the photo crumpled on the table. It was the man and woman he'd seen in other pictures, her parents, but the woman was holding a little baby boy. A younger version of Zia—the girl in the picture couldn't have been older that five—was kneeling in the mud, reaching up to touch the baby's feet.

She'd lied about forgetting Adrian. She was still in pain. And that hurt him more than any rejection ever could.

*#*#*

She had her quirks, her flaws, her imperfections. But they didn't matter, because he still loved her, because she was beautifully imperfect.

O-o-O

**So, yeah, another Adrian reference. He ain't going away for a while.**

**And, by the way, **_**The Raven **_**is a great poem, but it still scares the pants off me every time I read it. Creeeeeeeppppppyyyyyy.**

**Review? Please? With a chocolate muffin on top? **


	7. Don't Let Go

**This is the chapter you may not like. At all. It's…well, you'll have to read it.**

**Anyway. Moving on. I don't own. Capiche? Excellent. Let's do this.**

O-o-O

"Guess…_that _one," Zia said, pointing to another plant growing at the edge of the trail. She thought it resembled a palm frond. Carter studied it for a moment.

"Not a clue," he finally responded. "I'm guessing it's poisonous?"

She smiled. "That's hemlock. Extremely poisonous."

"So, not the ideal stuff for a salad?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't deign to reply.

Carter turned her to face him, tucking her head under his chin. She blushed—after all, they were in the middle of a public hiking trail—and twisted so that her head was (slightly more appropriately) resting against his shoulder. Later, she wasn't sure whether she was thankful or angry that she had turned; nor was she sure that it had made any difference in the outcome.

"Zia?" he said, feeling her fists clench and her muscles freeze.

"Don't. Move," she whispered, eyes locked on the shape in the brush.

He moved anyway, slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder. She felt him stiffen as he followed her gaze."That's a…"

"Copperhead," she breathed. "I don't know what it's doing this close to the city."

The snake slithered forward, pausing briefly in a patch of sun ten feet behind them. Zia whimpered.

"What is it?" he asked, running his hands soothingly through her hair. She could feel his breathing accelerate as the serpent crept forward another inch, staring at them questioningly, as if it were thinking, _What are the people looking at?_

"I'm…allergic to copperhead venom."

Carter's hand, resting against her back, clenched.

"How long will you have?" he finally asked, never taking his eyes off the snake.

"Minutes," she said, "and that is if I am _very_ lucky." Her chin trembled, and the words poured out of her in her panic. "It's like hemlock to me. If I am bitten, my toes will start to feel numb, and then it will creep up through my blood until it reaches my lungs. Then," she murmured, "I will stop breathing."

She supposed he couldn't help his bitter laugh at the irony of the situation.

The snake slithered forward another few inches, tasting the air and hissing—warning them to get off its territory, Zia supposed. She didn't dare move. Carter, _very_ slowly, turned around, pulling his sword out of thin air. The serpent opened its mouth, baring its fangs in a warning. She shivered, tears sliding from her eyes without permission.

_No._

It lunged.

Carter yelled and slashed, but the snake was too fast. It darted past him and sank its fangs into her ankle.

She screamed and stumbled back, falling on the dirt, and there was a flash and a dull thud and the snake's body fell limp, its severed head still embedded in her leg.

Carter pried the fangs from her skin and threw the head aside, lowering her to the ground as she screamed, lost in absolute hysterics. She heard Carter yelling for help, people appearing from around corners, horrified screams.

Carter lifted her torso, trying to keep the poison from reaching her upper body, and she kept crying even though it was stupid; she needed to slow her heart rate. Her toes were already going numb.

"Zia, hang on," Carter pleaded, cradling her head. She nodded and did her best to ignore the lack of sensation creeping past her ankles. Some hikers were digging in their pockets and backpacks, looking for Thoth only knew what, and she heard someone muttering something about a pen.

Her heart was going too fast. Her panic was driving the venom through her veins; already she could feel nothing below her mid-calf. She clutched Carter's hand, squeezing his fingers until they cracked, trying to quell the terror that was already closing her throat tight. "Don't let go," she begged.

"'Course not," he said, sounding a little strangled. How ironic that he would be the one suffocating.

She held back a scream of frustration as she lost the sensation in her knees. Why, of all the places in the city, was it _this _trail? Why _her,_ of all people?

Carter leaned over and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and muttering a prayer—she didn't catch which god it was to—but it was ineffective. Her waist was tingling. Carter put his hand on her knee, trying to calm her down, but she shook her head and pulled it up to her torso. Comforting gestures required functioning nerves.

"Already?" Carter whispered. She nodded but didn't say anything, as she was having difficulty breathing—maybe it was just her emotions, or maybe the poison had reached her lower lungs, she couldn't be sure. She did her best to swallow the lump in her throat.

_Sissy? It's okay._

She choked in surprise. Carter forced her chin up, possibly thinking she was suffocating.

_Adrian?_

It was like some unseen force had superimposed an image of her brother over her vision. Carter was still holding her, trying to get her attention, but at the same time Adrian was standing in front of her with his hands behind his back.

_Not yet,_ he said.

"Stay with me, Zia," Carter pleaded.

She looked him in the eye. "Adrian," she sobbed.

"You'll see him soon," Carter promised, stroking her cheek.

She wanted to tell him that she could see him _now,_ but suddenly there was no air left in her lungs. She sat up, cupping her hands around her throat, and retched, trying to breathe.

_Come on, Zee-Zee!_ Adrian smiled, holding out his hand for her.

Carter pressed his mouth to hers, trying to force air down her nonresponsive windpipe in a last-ditch effort.

Zia took her baby brother's hand.

And Carter simply wasn't there anymore. Instead, there was Ra's sun boat, docked and waiting with the sun god himself sitting on his throne. Bast was kneeling at the foot of the throne, but she smiled sideways at Zia and gestured for her to come aboard. She hesitated—she had never heard of a spirit getting an escort to the Land of the Dead—but Adrian tugged on her hand and ran to the goddess's side, bowing once to Ra and sitting next to the flaming chair—better manners than he'd ever had when he was alive, Zia couldn't help but notice. She knelt at Ra's feet, and he gave her a curt nod before turning his attention back to the river in front of them.

The boat lurched forward, and they sped down the River of Night, with Bast fighting off the monsters that swarmed around them. Adrian, who was now wearing a skirt and sandals, like an Egyptian warrior, curled up in her lap. She briefly noted that she was now wearing a white dress and a heavy jeweled collar, which would probably make her neck hurt soon.

After some length of time—she wasn't sure how quickly time passed in the Duat—she saw the Hall of Judgment looming in the distance. She half expected the boat to stop, but they sailed straight past.

Finally, the sun boat docked at Osiris' palace. Ra stood, ready to disembark, and Adrian tugged her to her feet. She slowly made her way onto dry land, unsure whether she was supposed to be here at all.

Osiris himself sat at the end of the table, just to the right of Ra's chair. He winked at Zia as Adrian pulled her past.

And she was in Paradise.

O-o-O

**Carter: YOU KILLED MY GIRLFRIEND! *beats me about the head and shoulders with his sword***

**Adrian: YOU KILLED MY SISSY! *beats me about the shins and ankles with a stick***

**Me: So, in case you haven't noticed, I'm paying dearly for what I did. But you can still yell at me in a review if you want. And also, for some strange reason Ra was no longer senile. Maybe he went to rehab or something.**


	8. Real Men Wear Pink

**Hey all. I'm writing this from the Land of the Dead, because Sadie kind of killed me after that last chapter.**

**So. Anyway. For those of you who don't know, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. So, I wrote this for all the people out there who know someone who has had breast cancer, or have even had it themselves. For the fighters, the survivors, and the lost.**

**Grandma, I'm happy I can call you a survivor :)**

**I do not own the Kane Chronicles.**

O-o-O

"Zia!"

Anisa bounced in from the terrace, shoving her last bite of toast in her mouth. She held out a length of pale pink ribbon, saying, "Help me put this in my hair?"

Zia smiled a little. "I'm the wrong person to ask, Annie. Maybe Alyssa can help you."

Anisa sighed and bounded for the stairs, almost crashing into Walt as he reached the ground floor. He grabbed her arm to steady her, very carefully backing away as she ran up the stairs two at a time—quite impressive considering she barely cleared five feet. Carter hadn't believed her at first when she claimed she was sixteen.

Walt rolled his eyes and sank into the nearest couch, saying, "Just being _near _that girl wears me out. Who gave her sugar this morning?" 

"I'm pretty sure she didn't have any," Carter said. "She's just hyper."

Walt started to say something, probably commenting on Anisa's constant state of super-activeness, but stopped, giving Carter a puzzled look. Then he broke out in a grin, saying, "That's a very manly shade of pink there, Carter."

He could feel his face turn red.

"Don't be so heartless, Walt," Anisa said, leaping down the stairs, bow now firmly affixed in her white blond hair. "Don't you know what month it is?"

"Is it not October?" he asked.

She planted her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Yes, it _is _October."

"I'm lost."

Zia grinned at Walt. "October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month," she explained.

"That still doesn't explain why Carter is wearing a hot pink shirt."

Carter scratched the back of his neck, which felt hot. "My…mom had breast cancer," he said slowly. "When Sadie and I were really little. She was declared completely cancer-free ten years ago today."

Zia leaned over and rested her head against his shoulder. He had already told her everything: remembering his mom coming home some days and going straight to bed without even eating dinner, or her bad days when she couldn't make it out of bed to eat breakfast. He remembered watching her brush her hair, yanking patches of her curls out with every stroke. And he remembered the day she had run into the house from the driveway, crying, and crushed him in a hug tight enough to knock the breath out of him. "Mommy's going to be fine," she'd said, laughing for the first time in weeks. Sadie had been too young to remember it, and his memory of the whole event was a little fuzzy, but it still made him sad to think that she had fought her way through all of that only to die anyway.

"My whole cheer team at my old school had these," Anisa said, displaying her own pink T-shirt. She turned around and swept her hair around her shoulder, showing the back, which read _OUR COACH IS A SURVIVOR!_

Walt nodded as Anisa cartwheeled to the couch, falling into the seat next to Walt. "So you can stop teasing Carter," she finished with a glare, which was pretty amusing, when you compared the two; Walt, the huge dark basketball player, and Anisa, the tiny wisp of a cheerleader who could be mistaken for albino, with her milky skin and bright blue eyes.

"I can still tease him all I want, _Annie," _he said. She stuck her tongue out at him as he finished, "No matter how noble the cause, it's still a pink shirt."

"You still can't bother him, Walt," Zia said with a smirk.

"Why not?"

She beamed at Carter, saying, "Because _real_ men wear pink."

O-o-O

**How's that for a fast update?**

**Also, Anisa is also the chick that Walt tossed into the pool in chapter five. You'll be seeing more of her. Credit for the name goes to gingerroot15, without whom she would've remained nameless, faceless, and Walt would not have a future girlfriend…**

**Whoops. You didn't read that.**

**Anyway, reviews are welcome!**


	9. Still Hurts

**I'm baaaaack!**

**Hopefully the Pink chapter made up for me killing Carter…? Maybe?**

**Or not. Anyway. This is another one of those angsty Adrian chapters you all looove me for :P**

**I do not own the Kane Chronicles.**

O-o-O

"Zee-Zee!"

Zia grinned as her two-year-old brother waved to her from the river bank. She refused to go near the water, despite her mother's orders to stay with him, but she figured as long as she could see him it was acceptable. After all, he couldn't get into much trouble all by himself, and with her watching—he was always eager to please her. Some of the older girls in the village complained about their younger siblings being annoying or troublesome, but Zia couldn't imagine growing tired of Adrian smiling at her as he threw mud at her.

He wiped his hands on his linen robes—Zia's mother would be furious, but she didn't mind—and dashed out of the water, saying, "Please come swim with me?"

"No," she said, crossing her arms over her bony torso. "I won't swim, and Mother says you can't go in without someone."

"Fine," he said, looking dejected, but immediately perked up and said, "Then can I have some of your chocolate?"

She sighed and broke some off, hoping he would be satisfied with the candy. He grinned and sat next to her, licking the chocolate like it was a sucker. She couldn't help but giggle at the sight.

They slowly ate their way through the chocolate bar until there was only one bite left, which she passed to Adrian as he pouted at her. _"Now _can we swim?" he begged.

One of the boys who was closer to her age called, "Zia! Look at this!" from outside one of the huts. She jumped up and ran to his side, poring over the stack of photographs with a few of her friends. They were nothing all that special—just desert landscapes—but the heat gave a wave-like effect to the scenes.

"_Sissy!"_

She whirled around, only to see Adrian vanishing under the water, screaming.

Without thinking, she took off running, straight to the water's edge—closer to the river than she'd ever dared to go before. Her toes brushed the water, and she jerked back, her stomach clenching into a knot. She couldn't swim. She _hated _the water. And where was Adrian?

She ran along the bank, following the flow of the river, hoping for some sign—_any_ sign—of her brother. He was simply…gone.

She kept running, mud splattering her legs and squelching uncomfortably between her toes, until the village was far behind her. She could hear others, adults probably, behind her, yelling, but her tiny legs somehow carried her faster. She ran, screaming her brother's name, praying that he would drag himself out of the water, but the only disturbance was a stick floating past.

She tripped on some unseen obstacle, probably a rock, and fell face-first in the mud, getting a mouthful of something slimy and soaking the front of her robes. She didn't care. She tried to pull herself back up, but her arms were shaking too hard, and she was screaming so hard she couldn't catch her breath, and her legs hurt so much—

Zia felt a warm pair of arms scoop her up, and she found her face buried in her aunt's neck. The woman stroked her damp, muddy hair, murmuring into her cheek, cradling Zia as she slowly walked back to the village. In the distance, she could see lights glimmering on the river as the older kids and adults who weren't in the fields swept the shallows for her brother. She hadn't realized how far she had run, but by the time her aunt walked into the village, it was dark and she was freezing. Somewhere her shoes had come off, and her feet were swollen, cut and bleeding and caked in river mud. Her robes were soaking wet and probably ruined. She started shivering as her aunt ducked into Zia's house, setting her on the bed and pulling her robes over her head, leaving her in her underclothes. She washed and bandaged her feet, whispering apologies as she whimpered. Zia started sneezing, frozen to her bones, and felt as though she might get sick. Her aunt rubbed her forehead and tucked her into bed before ducking out.

Zia's parents did not come home that night, or the night after. She did not care. She was in no shape for company, as she now had a fever and couldn't stop coughing. Her aunt or one of the older girls would come and sit with her, rubbing her temples as she drifted in and out of sleep.

Even when the fever was long gone and the coughing had subsided, she felt as though she was trapped in a nightmare.

*#*#*

"Mommy!" she screamed, her voice lost in the pandemonium of voices and explosions, people being crushed and killed by the beast that was rampaging through her village, shouts for water as houses caught fire.

"Mommy!" she yelled again, shrieking as a man nearly trampled her into the ground in his rush to get away. Where was her mother? Why wasn't she coming? Zia started sobbing.

Her mother appeared behind her, running through the haze of smoke and sand, picking Zia up and running to the very edge of the village. She tucked Zia into a fire pit and started pulling reeds from the mud, tossing them on top.

"Stay here!" her mother ordered as she vanished into the gloom.

She lay curled in the pit, with ashes from the last fire drifting into her nose and making her sneeze. Smoke drifted across the sand, bringing with it screams from the village. There was a roar and a tremendous explosion, flashes of purple and green light.

The smoke grew thicker as the fire spread, consuming the nearest house in a brilliant flash. It burned her lungs; she buried her face in the steaming reeds, coughing. The flames dances across the dead grass, coming ever closer, and she couldn't run, trapped between the fire and the water.

She started hyperventilating, the oxygen in her lungs being replaced by the rancid smoke, and coughed until it felt like her throat must be raw. She doubled over and tried to breathe, but there was no clean air and her head was spinning. The reeds over her started smoldering, burning her robes, sending white-hot pain all through her body.

Her vision went blurry, from tears or lack of air she didn't know, and a figure appeared in front of her—

"_Sissy!"_

Adrian cried out in joy, his chocolate-covered hand extended out toward her, beaming. She coughed again, trying to take his hand, but her limbs wouldn't obey her commands. She could only stir weakly.

"Iskandar!" she heard a man yell. "There is a child! She's alive!"

Zia reached out, but before her hand could meet Adrian's, someone rustled the reeds and he vanished. She cried out in frustration as he dissolved into smoke.

A man in white robes extended a hand down to reach her, pull her out of the fire pit, speaking in an accent that sounded foreign—French? She wasn't sure. "Come here, child," he said. "We'll help you."

But this man had taken Adrian away, and Mother had told her not to talk to strange people, and he was scary, so instead Zia grabbed his hand and bit down on it with all her might.

He yelled and reeled back, shouting in a language she didn't know, but she had a feeling he wasn't yelling things Mother would approve of her hearing. She slumped against the ground, exhausted and scared and completely out of air, as another man appeared from the smoke, with papery brown skin and kind eyes.

"She bit me!" the angry Frenchman shouted.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" the older man chuckled.

"We could let her burn," the other muttered.

"Now, Desjardins," the old man chided in a wispy voice. "She's terrified. I can hardly blame her for defending herself.

Then he crouched in front of her, smiling gently, and picked her up; she was too weak to fight this time. Besides, he _was_ her elder, and she needed to treat him kindly, even if he was friends with the angry man—Desjardins.

Zia coughed harder, trembling, and the nice man pressed her hand to her forehead, sending her into a dreamless sleep.

*#*#*

She jerked awake, screaming.

Zia panted in the darkness of her room, slowly pulling herself out of the dream. _Just a dream._ There were thuds and shouts from the other rooms on her floor, people leaping out of bed, since her door was open and she must've woken them.

The other residents of Brooklyn House appeared in her doorway, some with their wands and staffs, others holding blankets, and for unknown reasons Cleo was clutching her pillow like she planned to use it as a weapon.

"Zia?" Carter said, bare-chested and breathing heavily. "What is it?"

"It's just…I…" she tried to explain, but words failed her and she dissolved into sobs.

Felix, in his penguin pajamas, stepped forward and crawled into her bed, sitting next to her. "Do you want to snuggle with Shivers?" he said, holding out a plush version of the animal. She took the proffered penguin and gave him a watery smile.

Carter sat down on her other side, rubbing her shoulder and wrapping an arm around her waist. Anisa jumped onto the foot of the bed, crossing her legs, and Walt joined her, fingering the amulets that always adorned his neck. Sadie sat next to Carter as the rest of the crowd dispersed.

"Was it Adrian?" Carter whispered in her ear. Anisa—Zia swore that girl must have the ears of a bat—looked at the curiously, but Carter just shook his head. Zia nodded and wiped her eyes.

Zia lay down again, and Carter stretched out next to her while Felix curled up and rested his head on her shoulder. Carter kept whispering, and after a few minutes his voice lulled her back to sleep.

*#*#*

She woke up feeling hot from the collective body heat of five extra people sprawled on her bed. It reminded her of the flames from her nightmare. She sat up carefully, so as not to disturb Felix or Carter, and corrected herself—there were _three _people. Anisa and Walt were napping on the floor, probably so they wouldn't end up lying on her feet, which was exactly what Sadie was doing.

Without warning, Felix sneezed in his sleep so hard that he woke not only himself but every other occupant of the room. Carter fell off the bed with a shout, and Sadie almost joined him, catching herself at the last second. Anisa sat straight up, her hair a tangled mess, while Walt just groaned and rolled over groggily.

Felix burst out laughing. Carter sat up, saying, "If I didn't know better I would think he did that on purpose."

Zia grinned, nightmares forgotten as he pulled himself back up and tucked her under his arm. She turned to untangle her feet from the sheets. Behind her, Carter gasped.

"Oh, god…_Zia._ What…"

She froze. How could she have forgotten? She was wearing a _camisole._ After all, it had been hot when she went to bed, and she didn't feel like wearing her linen shirt. Sadie leaned forward to get a good look at Zia's back, and paled. She knew what they were seeing: angry red scars, puckered and shiny, in patches all over her back and neck.

"It's nothing," she said. "Just…left from when my village…" She trailed off, hoping she wouldn't have to explain in front of the others.

"I thought you said Iskandar got you out."

"He did. The reeds I was hiding under started burning," she muttered, feeling four curious stares piercing her. Carter just shook his head at them, telling them that it was none of their business, she supposed.

Felix crawled into her lap, hugging her around the waist. Then he rolled off the bed and said, "Feel better, Zia!" as he ran out of the room, Shiver tucked under his arm. Zia thought Walt might say something, but he was unconscious again, Anisa curled up and snoring softly at his side. Sadie yawned and fell back, her feet hanging off the edge of the bed. Zia was surprised that they had managed to stay awake this long; after all, it was two in the morning.

Carter pushed her shoulder until she was laying down again, and wrapped his arms tight around her as her eyes slid shut.

O-o-O

**Hi.**

**I went on a mission trip to the St. Louis Dream Center and had the most amazing. Experience. Ever. Unfortunately, the Arby's we ate on the way back is causing my youth group some MUCH less pleasant experiences right now.**

**Also, the review performance for my school's play is tomorrow. Wish me luck?**


	10. If You Love Me

**Zia's feeling much better. Of course, it helped remembering the expression on Desjardins' face when she bit him. And thanks for all the good luck wishes!**

**Anyway, this one is actually quite fluffy, without a trace of angst anywhere in it. Really. You can check. *runs angst detector over chapter* See? Nothing.**

**Also, this is dedicated to I'mDifferent—GetOverIt. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TORI! I FINISHED IT AFTER ALL!**

**I do not own the Kane Chronicles.**

O-o-O

Carter supposed he would always be confused by normal teenage games.

Although, in his defense, he had every right to be a little concerned when he walked out of the library with Zia, laughing as she imitated one particularly nasty female magician from the First Nome, only to find Walt down on one knee in front of Sadie. The other residents of Brooklyn House were squashed on chairs and couches, some of them sprawled on the floor, laughing freely. Sadie was staring at Walt with a valiant attempt at an emotionless mask, but her lip was quivering like she was trying not to giggle.

"What is going on?" Zia said, her eyes flicking around the room, her expression somewhere between confusion and disgust.

Sadie cracked up, and Walt jumped to his feet, yelling, "I got you! Move it, Sades."

"No fair!" she protested. "You didn't do anything!"

"Doesn't matter," Anisa said. "You laughed."

Sadie grumbled incoherently as she rose from the couch, Walt taking her place with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Hello?" Carter said. "Still confused over here."

"It's a game," Anisa said. _"Please_ tell me you've heard of If You Love Me!"

"What?" Zia asked.

So Carter had the rules of the game explained to him—by about a dozen people at once. He gathered that one player started in the middle of the circle, and made their way to different people, saying, "Honey, if you love me, will you please just smile?" If they succeeded in making another player smile or laugh, they won and their opponent was stuck in the middle. If you were being asked the question, you had to maintain eye contact and reply, "I love you but I just can't smile."

"So," Walt finished, "You two want to play?"

Zia shrugged and sat on the arm of a couch that seemed to have been claimed by the girls; Anisa, Cleo, and Alyssa were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder. Carter joined Walt on the other couch, Felix scooting over to make room.

"Can I go now?" Sadie sighed, tapping her foot impatiently, then knelt in front of Felix. "Felix, darling?" she said.

"Yes?" Felix responded, trying to keep a straight face, but he bit his lip.

"If you love me, will you smile?"

Felix grinned and snickered, then slid to the floor and ran across the room. "Hey, Cleo?"

"Yes?"

Felix made Bambi eyes, and her lip started quivering.

"Will you smile?" he said with a pout. Cleo grinned and stood, turning to her left. "Anisa, if you love me, will you smile?"

"I love you but I just can't smile," she said, beaming. An instant later she realized her mistake and jumped to her feet, yelling, "Crap you! Why do you always pick on the smiley people?"

Cleo shrugged and allowed herself a little smirk as she took her seat.

Anisa stood in the middle of the room for a moment, chewing her lip as she glanced from face to face, and then her gaze landed on Carter and she broke out in a rather evil-looking grin. Then she skipped across the room.

And sat in his lap.

"Um…hi," he said, shifting uneasily as the rest of the room burst out into laughter, even Zia. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a really bony butt?"

"Yep," she chirped happily. "Carter, do you love me?"

"I…guess?" he muttered uneasily.

"Will you smile for me?" she pouted, and stroked his cheek, which was the last straw. He snorted, and she jumped, saying, "Wow, you really suck at this game, don't you? Move it."

He got up and went to smack her shoulder, but she neatly dodged the blow and fell onto the couch, sticking her tongue out at him.

He surveyed the room for a long minute before sighing and kneeling in front of Zia. "Don't make me do this," he begged. She shrugged, her face irritatingly blank.

"Fine," he muttered. "If you love me, will you please just smile?"

"I love you, but I just can't smile," she replied, her features void of any expression.

"Dissed by your own girlfriend," Walt said, shaking his head slowly. "Pathetic."

Zia raised an eyebrow, and ducked down to kiss Carter full on the mouth, which earned a few whistles.

She straightened up, and Carter threw his hands up, saying, "What was _that?"_

"They never said I couldn't kiss you," she said. "And I didn't smile." Which was true; her expression was _still_ deadpan.

"Women," Carter muttered, and stalked out of the room, raucous laughter at his heels.

O-o-O

**Poor Carter…So confused by the complexity of the female mind ;)**

**And Zia is beast at this game, is she not?**


	11. Rainy Mornings

**Ello, readers of SS!**

**Before you wonder why I'm posting this when I **_**should**_** be in school, it's because I'm sick. For the second day in a row, I might add. Not. Fun.**

**Anyway, got randomly inspired, so I'm ignoring the stories I really **_**should**_** be working on in favor of this thing. Who knew oneshots could become so addictive? But don't expect any more updates until at least Christmas, because I reallyreally need to update **_**Lucky Guy **_**and **_**Back on My Feet.**_** Otherwise I might end up with angry reviewers on my doorstep, wielding pitchforks and torches.**

…**so, yeah. I don't own the Kane Chronicles.**

O-o-O

It was mornings like this that made Zia wish she could curl up and go into hibernation.

For a start, it was _far_ too early to be awake, even for her. No sane person woke up at four in the morning. Curse internal alarms. Never mind the huge list of things to do that was staring her in the face; she and Carter only had a few days to shove all of their belongings into boxes before Sadie officially kicked them out of Brooklyn House. She claimed it was because they had a kingdom to run; Zia suspected she just wanted her brother out of the house.

And to top it all off, when she lifted her head and glanced out the window, it was raining.

Stupendous.

She sighed and blew a strand of hair out of her face, contemplating telling the world and its various problems to take care of themselves so she could go back to sleep. _If only,_ she thought, with a little snort.

Unfortunately, the problems wouldn't leave her alone. She groaned and tried to find the willpower to drag herself out from under the very warm and very soft sheets. It was astonishingly difficult.

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, shoving her back down, and Carter mumbled, "Go back to sleep," only half-conscious himself.

She smiled and burrowed back into the sheets, obediently closing her eyes and burying her face in her husband's arm, which drew an annoyed sound from him as the icy tip of her nose touched his skin.

Maybe she didn't have to get up _just_ yet.

O-o-O

**HAHA LUKE I USED THE WORD! AND IT GOT ITS OWN PARAGRAPH!**

…**ahem. Sorry about that.**

**Reviews are still greatly appreciated! Hit the little blue button down there and it will activate the snooze button on Zia's alarm clock!** __


	12. Demonic

**A random update, my treat to you all, since I'm in a good mood. (Guess who got to see SKILLET live yesterday?)**

**I do not own TKC.**

O-o-O

Carter didn't have anything against cats. Really, he didn't. But he _swore_ that kitten was asking to be turned into a pair of earmuffs, and not in the magical way.

He didn't mind that Bast's presence brought in a bunch of felines—most of the cats just lounged in the sun and minded their own business. Some of them were actually kind of sweet and would curl up on your lap any time you sat down. However, there was one kitten—Minnie, Anisa had called her, since the thing was no bigger than a mouse—who was downright nasty. There was a reason Cleo had started referring to her as Lady Voldemort. The cat seemed to derive cruel pleasure from scratching and biting anyone in reach.

And, because the world was out to get him, Lady Voldemort seemed to find his pillow particularly comfortable.

He glared at the kitten, mewling happily as she clawed at his pillowcase, taunting him with her size (how could something so tiny be so scary?) and deceptive innocence. He wondered idly if he could flip the pillow over fast enough to smother the little beast. Probably not, but it was the thought that counted, after all.

"Shoo," he muttered, striding toward the bed. Lady Voldemort jumped to her feet, hissing, fluffy fur standing straight up in a black poof. He sighed, reaching out to scoop up the little fuzzball and toss it out, when the stupid animal hissed again and sank her teeth into his hand. "Hey!" he said, not that it hurt, but still.

Zia stopped in the doorway, glancing from his scratched hand to the snarling kitten, and smiled. "Come here, Minnie," she said, kneeling on the floor. The disgusting creature straightened out of her crouch, leaped smartly off the bed, and trotted to Zia, leaping into her outstretched arms.

"How?" Carter asked, watching as Zia stood, stroking the purring kitten's back.

She smirked at him, carrying the cat out and saying, "You might want to wash your pillow."

He whirled around and, sure enough, there was a small wet spot on the fabric, reeking of urine.

Wonderful.

O-o-O

**Ha, the title probably made you think this would be serious, didn't it?**

**My neighbor had a black kitten—Minnie—also nicknamed Lady Voldemort, and with good reason, only in that scenario I was Zia. Minnie loved me; I was the only person who could hold her and not die. **


	13. Brace Yourself

**Decided y'all needed an update, and I was in a poetry mood. Freeverse. Forgot how fun it was :)**

**I don't own KC.**

O-o-O

you _want_ to believe he's

**l y i n g**

when he says he l.o.v.e.s you

_please, zia, _he says, _just try to remember._

and you try, you

**/r/e/a/l/l/y/**

do

but the memories

_**[j][u][s][t]**_

aren't t-h-e-r-e

(and you aren't sure if you

_want_

to remember him).

he is a **Kane**

evil, _traitor,_ **dangerous**

~caring~, (l)(o)(v)(i)(n)(g), searched for

y.o.u

for _months_ on end.

you don't **k n o w** what to

believe anymore.

you don't even _KnOw_ if you can believe

**y~o~u~r~s~e~l~f**

because when you (s)(e)(e) him, you think

you might _love_ him, too,

because your stomach t _u _r _n _s and you can't

_**breathe**_

and _maybejustmaybe_

you think it's **s.w.e.e.t**

when he smiles and pulls out your chair

(how could such a _gentleman_

be **evil?**)

or the way he's always there to

_catch_ you

when you wear yourself out training.

as much as you (h)(A)(t)(E) to

**[a][d][m][i][t] **

it, you think you must be

_**f**_

_**a**_

_**l**_

_**l**_

_**i**_

_**n**_

_**g**_

hard

for Carter Kane.

now you just have to

**brace** yourself

and hope you don't s_h_a_t_t_e_r

on i m p a c t.

O-o-O

**That was fun. Come on, Zia, have a heart and tell the poor boy how you feel.**


	14. Fixed At Zero

**This is short. And late. And very angsty. I got inspired by a combination of this song and my…day. It was long. I'll leave it at that.**

**I do not own TKC or Fixed At Zero.**

O-o-O

_I've learned to talk with my fingers, the only voice that awakes my ears…_

*#*#*

Zia had decided that, even if the war didn't kill her, she was going to put herself in an early grave because her stress levels were absolutely through the roof.

She knew that most of it was probably her own fault; she didn't want to admit it. So much easier to blame other people. Apophis. Carter. Anyone else. She didn't care. She _needed _someone to blame.

She sighed, flipping the page of her book and sinking further into the couch. Maybe she could just disappear into the cushions and be done with this permanent headache she called her life. Then she wouldn't have to worry about who might want her attention or the new trainees that always called her name, not knowing that someone would have to tap her on the shoulder and point her in the right direction, or the jokes and stories that she would never understand. She wouldn't have to think about the guilty expressions that always flitted across people's faces when they started talking to her, or the way everyone went out of their way now to include her in everything even though she hated it.

How nice it would be to vanish.

Zia glanced up at Anisa and Jaz, who were dancing in the middle of the floor, shouting along to whatever song was playing on the stereo. She couldn't make out what they were saying; their mouths were moving too fast. She went back to her book, bare feet brushing against the floor, which was thrumming gently with the girls' footsteps.

Just when she was getting comfortable, her mind completely absorbed in the novel, a heart-squeezing _boom_ reverberated up through the floorboards, startling her so badly she screamed and dropped the book. She looked up, hands clapped over her own ears—a completely useless gesture—and saw Jaz running to turn down the volume, Anisa rushing to apologize before catching herself and trying to sign it, her fingers stumbling and making her "words" unrecognizable.

Zia ran. Her feet pounded against the stairs, the hollow thuds shaking her legs, and she could almost imagine the accompanying sound. Her door flew open, smashing against the wall of her bedroom, but she didn't care how loud it was because she couldn't hear it either way and it would just be one more thing to add to the list of why her life sucked. Curse Apophis for doing this to her, for turning her deaf, making her useless. She wondered if she had it in her to hate him any more.

A hand grasped her shoulder and she jumped again, whirling around, but it was only Carter, who slowly and deliberately signed, _Are you okay?_

"I hate all of this," she said quietly—at least, she thought that was what she said. She didn't like talking. Hated using sign language. Better not to talk at all. She wasn't used to having to sound out every syllable without ever hearing it.

Carter's brow furrowed, like he hadn't understood her, and she couldn't help it. She started crying. She broke down and sobbed, letting her eyes burn and her throat ache, because she really couldn't stand this. She _did _hate this. She hated her life. She hated herself. How could one person have so much hatred inside, like a massive ball of self-destructive fury, and not implode? How could she live like this?

Carter pulled her against him, rubbing her back and whispering empty promises that she couldn't hear.

*#*#*

_There's a vulture on my shoulder, and he's telling me to give in_

_Always hissing right in my ear, like it's coming from my own head_

_It's got me mixed up, trying not to give up, tell me there's a way to get out of here_

_Oh fixed at zero…_

O-o-O

**One last thing: I wanted to say thank you to all of my amazing friends on this site, especially xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, Eleos, bubble drizzles, bookluva98, FlameTamer16, I'mDifferent-GetOverIt, Dream Out Loud 18, and Twilight Chick 01. You guys have gotten me through so many hard times and I can't thank you enough for always being here with me. Love you all.**


	15. Service With A Smile

**Happy Single's Awareness Day, everyone! *waves tiny flag and blows party favor* A quick note so you don't yell at me: this is AU, no gods, no magic, no exploding donkeys. Just normal teenagers from a normal school. Capiche?**

**I do not own the Kane Chronicles.**

O-o-O

It was times like these that made Carter _hate _Valentine's Day.

It was one thing to sit around and eat conversation hearts in English class or laugh at the poor saps who got serenaded by the swing choir. It was another to be dragged to some lame dinner while your parents held hands under the table and giggled like schoolkids.

Oh, and he couldn't forget his darling sister, who was stabbing him with a fork. Happy Valentine's to him.

"Can I help—oh, hi, Carter."

He turned around. "Zia. What are you doing here?" Then he smiled a little and added, "Nice bow tie."

She tugged at the tie around her neck. "Laugh it up. At the moment, I'm here to ask you what you want to drink." She shook her head. "The last time I checked, _volunteer basis _means you volunteer yourself, although my so-called friends took it to mean volunteering everyone they know."

"You know you love us!" another girl from school called as she passed Zia with a tray.

"Keep believing that," she yelled back. Then she turned back to the table and said, "There's coffee, tea, and water, and if I were you I'd stick with the water. Everything else is disgusting."

His mom smiled. "I guess we'll take water, then."

Zia was barely out of earshot when his dad said, "You know her?" with one of those expressions that made Carter think, _Here it comes._

"Yeah," he muttered, "from school."

"Why have you never mentioned her?"

"We only have a couple classes together."

"She's very pretty," his mother added.

"Mom!"

Zia reappeared, carefully placing four glasses of ice water on the table and smiling like she knew exactly what they were talking about. "I'm supposed to double check that you all wanted steak, right?"

Sadie blinked. "How did you know that?"

Zia pointed, saying, "It's on the back of your name plates." She turned, calling, "What do I look like, a magician?" over her shoulder as she vanished into the crowd of overdressed teenage servers.

They sat in silence after that for a good half hour, sipping water and waiting for the food to be served. Gradually kids started trickling out of the kitchen, balancing trays overloaded with more drinks and steaming food that actually smelled pretty good. The back of the room was getting served first, but within a few minutes a rail-thin blond with glasses sliding off the bridge of her nose settled plates in front of his parents.

Zia brushed past, balancing a couple of empty glasses and a pitcher of tea, which _did _look kind of gross. She had just smiled at him when there was a shout and a crash. A gangly boy slipped and fell to the ground, dumping the contents of his tray on the floor and tripping Zia, who shrieked as the boy's steaming pot of coffee splashed all over her torso. She tumbled down and landed in a pile of green bean and tea mush.

Carter knelt on the floor, grabbing a fistful of napkins from the table and trying to help a few other kids soak up the worst of the mess. He asked Zia, "Are you okay?"

She shook her head mutely and cradled her hand, kicking aside the now-bloodied steak knife that must have sliced her palm open.

One of the adults that must have been running the dinner appeared, dropping more napkins on the unappetizing pile and examining Zia's hand. "I'm taking you to the hospital," he said. "Go put on some clean clothes. You'll freeze."

"Come with me," the blond with the glasses murmured. "You can borrow my jeans, if you don't mind that they'll be too long."

"Here," Carter said, grabbing his sweatshirt off the back of his chair and pressing it into Zia's good hand. She smiled weakly as the blond and another girl pulled Zia to her feet and let her to the bathroom.

"I'll finish this up," the other boy muttered, "You eat."

Carter nodded and climbed back into his chair, ignoring Sadie's cheer of "Carter's got a girlfriend!" and picking at his food, which suddenly didn't look so appetizing. He just poked the fat on the side of his steak as Zia went past, her hand wrapped in paper towels. Not even dessert cheered him up; the so-light-it-dissolved-in-your-mouth angel food cake tasted too sweet.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he muttered.

*#*#*

"Hi."

Carter turned around in the lunch line to see Zia holding out his folded sweatshirt. "I was going to give it to you earlier, but I couldn't find you," she explained.

"Thanks," he said, taking the shirt and pulling it over his head. "Yeah, I was at the dentist. Had to get a filling redone."

"Ouch." She wrinkled her nose. "I hate that. The anesthetic always makes me sick."

"Me too," he agreed. "How are you?"

She shrugged. "I have a twisted ankle and a few minor burns. Had to get a couple stitches. Nothing too terrible."

"That's good."

Zia bit her lip. "Speaking of last night, Alayna said you didn't eat much—which she is mad about, by the way, because she had dish duty, and since we got all the leftovers"—she held out a slice of saran-wrapped cheesecake on a paper plate—"happy belated Valentine's Day. There's no way I can eat the whole cake by myself. My blood sugar will go through the roof."

"Thanks," he said, "You're diabetic?"

She nodded. "Do you want to sit down? I doubt you'll want to eat much, with the filling and all."

"You're not getting food?"

She shook a brown paper sack. "Mystery meat isn't good for my sugar levels. Or my taste buds, for that matter."

He glanced at a passing kid's tray. "That's supposed to be meat? I thought it was refried beans."

"My point exactly." She nodded out at the seats. "Come on, all the tables are filling up."

He followed her to an empty bench, unwrapping the cake and taking a bite. Even with his mouth half numb, it tasted amazing. "Thanks again," he said. "I wish I'd brought you something."

She grinned. "I'll remind you of that the next time you have an entire cake in your fridge that you're not allowed to eat."

"Point taken," he muttered.

At least she had the good grace to hide her laughter behind a cough.

O-o-O

**Yes, I know Zia was horribly OOC. That was on purpose. I think if she hadn't grown up in the world of magic and whatnot, she'd have a wicked sense of sarcasm. Yes?**

**And the dinner thing was basically an exact replica of the Vday dinner my youth group ran, and yes, I wore a bow tie. Laugh while you can. (We didn't have any disasters with the knives, though, thankfully.)**

**Happy Valentine's Day! I hope you all get to spend it with your special someone, or—if you're like me and too cool for a relationship *cough*-spend it home alone eating conversation hearts. Like a boss. **


	16. Here We Go

**Evening! Since this end of the story is closer to my profile link, I'll go ahead and mention that I'm hosting (is that the right word?) a prompt contest. Further details will be posted on my profile momentarily.**

**Anyway, fluffiness galore. Enjoy reading about characters that I don't own :)**

O-o-O

Cleo wasn't much of a social butterfly. She shivered at the thought of having to sustain a conversation for any given length of time, which resulted in her eating an early breakfast and hiding in the library, getting in a few hours of uninterrupted research. The only other person who woke up that early was Zia, but she wasn't much of a talker either, so their sunrise breakfasts passed in comfortable silence.

At this point, it was well after seven, and breakfast was settling nicely as she slid a dusty papyrus book off the shelf. Zia was still in the Great Room, probably sprawled on a couch with her book. Cleo could hear the soft sounds of both trainees and teachers making their way down, the clinks and clatters of dishes being piled with food. Sleepy murmurs drifted through the doors as the earlier risers exchanged half-conscious greetings of "Morning" and even the occasional "Hey, Zia."

After a while, there were more footsteps and the conversation picked up as the rest of the house made their way downstairs. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Cleo heard a shriek, and Anisa squealed, "Oh dear Ra, I see a ring!"

It was hard to tell, but Cleo was pretty sure that she heard Zia sigh, "Here we go."

"He _proposed!"_ Anisa screamed, and there was a squeak of couch cushions and a muffled "Get off" from Zia.

Cleo couldn't help it; she dashed to the door and peeped through. Zia was being smothered in a hug by Anisa, who was kneeling on the couch. Zia wrestled free and jumped off the couch, snatching her book from where it had fallen and heading for the library. "Hey! Where are you going?" Anisa protested.

"Somewhere _quiet," _Zia said, and shut the doors gently behind her, brushing past Cleo on her way in. She could hear the frenzied conversation through the door as she turned back to the table. Zia had pulled up a chair, her book in front of her, looking a little annoyed. Absently she scratched a red patch on her arm (which wasn't unusual; there were enough lethal substances floating around to give anyone a rash), and on Zia's left hand flashed a diamond ring.

Cleo wondered how she hadn't seen it earlier. While the ring wasn't huge or flashy, it almost seemed to glow with soft silver light. She sat across from Zia, doodling on a piece of paper and trying not to stare at the ring. It really was pretty, with tiny flame designs etched into the silver band that seemed to dance when the light hit them just right. Her pencil strokes on the paper lengthened, outlining curled fingers, the flame-covered ring.

"Nice," Zia said. Cleo glanced up; Zia was studying the paper.

"Thanks," Cleo muttered, blushing. It was more than a little embarrassing to get caught drawing somebody. Before she had to think of a more eloquent response, however, the doors creaked open and Carter walked in.

"Thanks for leaving me to the sharks," he said, gesturing in the general direction of the Great Room.

"Better you than me," Zia grinned, getting up and meeting Carter in a hug. The difference in height was almost comical—Zia hadn't grown an inch since the day Cleo had met her, while Carter had shot up to nearly six feet in the past few years, so that there was almost half a foot between them.

"You're in a good mood," he noted.

"I wonder why."

"Don't get smart with me," he said, scooping her up.

Zia didn't blink, even when he tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift; she just huffed and crossed her arms. "You need to work on your acting skills," she mumbled into his shoulder. "You don't scare me."

"Sure. Of all things, my acting skills need work."

"They do," she confirmed, sounding surprisingly blasé as she flipped her legs over Carter's arm and landed behind him. "Honestly, I don't know why everyone's so surprised this morning. I saw it coming."

"You did?"

She shrugged. "You've been so jumpy. I haven't been able to talk to you for the last week."

Cleo blinked. She hadn't noticed anything unusual. Maybe Carter had looked a little pale, but she'd just assumed he was sick or something. Never in a million years had this occurred to her.

"You've made your point," he grumbled.

"I'm sure I have. Now shut your mouth and let me read." She sank back into her chair, and Carter settled next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

Cleo slipped out, smiling. She didn't think Zia was going to get very much reading done.

O-o-O

**Heh. Even Cleo will get her romantic mishaps…later. Be afraid.**


	17. That One Time

**Hello. Quick and slightly crappy update that doesn't technically count as Zarter…in fact, I think the only hints of anything romantic in here you might catch would be some Zia/Horus. But anyway, I haven't updated in forever and I felt bad.**

"_**Please. War gods do not poop on blankets. Well, except for that one time—"**_

**I had to, okay?**

**[insert witty disclaimer here]**

O-o-O

Carter was already having a bad day. Between the end of the world and one of the newbies almost blowing him up, there was nothing he wanted more right now than to collapse in bed and not think for the next eight hours.

So of course, when he dragged himself up to his bedroom, there was a god perched on his pillow.

"Horus," he groaned. "Who let _you _in?"

"Your sister," the falcon (who knew there were falcons in New York?) said. "I only wanted to chat."

Carter made a mental note to throttle Sadie later and sighed, saying, "Can it wait?"

"It could," the bird agreed, "but I'm already here. You have a call on your scrying dish, by the way."

"And you couldn't have mentioned this earlier?" He ran outside and, sure enough, Zia was staring up at him from the bronze dish, looking somewhat amused.

"Your bird was flirting with me," she informed him. "He's very suave, for a war god."

Horus flew outside and landed on the edge of the dish. "And you are quite attractive, for a mortal."

"Excuse me for a second," Carter said, and clamped his hand around the falcon's beak. He then unceremoniously threw the bird back inside. "Sorry about that," he said to Zia. "Did you need something?"

Her grin faded. "Well," she started, "I have bad news and worse news. Which would you like first?"

"I'd take the worse news first," Horus advised, hopping back out. His feathers stuck up like porcupine quills.

"Dude, can't you take a hint?" Carter snapped. "Out."

"Maybe this should wait," Zia said. "I'll tell you tomorrow, okay?" She waved her hand and the oil turned dark.

"I think you scared her," Horus said.

Carter picked the bird up by its neck, saying, "Really? Out of my house. Go." He threw the falcon off the balcony and watched it fly away.

For the icing on the cake, when he went back inside, there was a massive black-and-white stain on his sheets.

Great.

O-o-O


	18. Panic Attack

**Heyo!**

**Check out the AWESOME story cover, yes? It's by ~bibbidy-boo, on deviantArt, and she was awesome enough to let me use her gorgeous pic. Credits to her. (She also has a rockin' Sadie pic, just saying.)**

**Note: this takes place roughly eight hours before chapter 16 (Here We Go, the deal with Zia being engaged and all that).**

**Anyway, disclaimer, don't own, yadda yadda, now read.**

O-o-O

Zia couldn't breathe.

She had felt this coming on all day; known it was coming from the moment she woke up, jumpy as a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Now it was so much worse. Her hands were shaking, her head was spinning—and certainly not in a good way—but she refused to fall apart right now. She wasn't going to ruin this evening for Carter, who seemed happier than he had been in weeks, with his arm draped over her shoulder as they stared over the city.

"Nice night," he muttered absently, his fingers fidgeting with her shirtsleeve.

"Mmm." She forced her lungs to expand and contract like normal, closing her eyes and listening to the gentle hum of city life—_hey, Sissy, watch me!—_no, no, she forced Adrian out of her mind. No. Not tonight.

"Kind of quiet," Carter said, "for a change."

"Uh-huh." Carter turned and smiled at her, his eyes lit up—those same chocolate brown eyes her father used to smile with—_way to go, sweetheart—_Zia's stomach twisted. She had to suppress a heave, her whole body shaking like a leaf as she trampled down the memory.

Carter's smile faded as he took in her pale face, and he placed his warm hand over her own trembling fingers. "Zia?" he asked, "Are you feeling okay?"

Hyperventilating, legs shaking, dizzy, nauseous. "I'm fine," she lied.

He frowned and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. The knot in her abdomen loosened a little at his touch; she managed to take one shaky but blissfully deep breath. "Carter, I'm _fine,"_ she insisted.

She could tell he didn't buy it, but he dropped his hand down again to lace his fingers through hers. "Zia"—

"No," she snapped, clapping a hand over his mouth, "I'm fine."

He smiled against her palm and tugged at her wrist, freeing his mouth and whispering, "I was just going to say _I love you."_

She closed her eyes as Carter kissed her forehead—her mother, coughing through the smoke—_I love you so much, Zia, be careful—_she clenched her jaw and simply refused to think.

"I love you too," she managed to choke out, and tried to think of any way to get out of there _now _because she couldn't hold it together much longer, maybe she could tell Carter she was sick or something—

"Zia, will you marry me?"

Oh.

So _that's _where he'd been going with all of this.

Zia's throat closed up, her stomach clenching until she was ready to puke—_so much for not ruining his night—_and she gasped, "One minute," and dashed for the stairs.

She couldn't even make the second floor before she collapsed. Her knees buckled, and she hit the floor, gasping for air as images poured into her brain—Adrian going under—Minha's voice; _It's your fault he's dead!_—her father screaming—_Get out of my head!_ she thought—her house in flames—her mother vanishing into the mayhem— _Zia, be careful—_Iskandar laying her in the tomb—_I'll come get you, dear—_the Serpent's mouth swallowing her—the crack of a whip; fiery pain across her shoulders; Anisa screaming, her tiny frame contorted and bleeding—Zia's own voice; _Don't hurt her! Pick on someone your own size, you spineless worms!—_bitter liquid being poured down her throat, her own whimper; _No more, _and Walt pleading with her; _One more, Zia, just one more, that's all, please! You have to drink it all, you made me promise!—_

"Zia? Zia! Snap out of it!"

Her back arched, her hand gripped her throat, gasping, her fingers tugging at the carpet fibers, she couldn't breathe—

"Zia, calm down." A hand wrapped around her shoulder, pulled her off the floor, and there was Walt, propping her up against the wall and brushing her hair out of her face. "What happened?" he asked her, brow furrowing.

Zia coughed, sniffed, wiped the tears from her eyes. "Just…you know."

"No," he said, sounding impatient, "I _don't _know. Out with it."

"Carter proposed."

"Oh." Walt scratched his head. "I'm sorry?"

"You don't understand. _Everyone _I care about gets hurt, Walt—you know what happened to my family. Iskandar died. Anisa almost got killed because of me"—

"Thanks for reminding me," he grumbled.

"And you know what I made you do. What if…if he…" She couldn't finish the thought.

Walt huffed, scratched the back of his neck, and said, "I hate to break it to you, but you sound kind of stupid."

Zia snorted.

"I'm serious," he said. "Carter's a big boy, and I don't know if you missed the memo or what, but we've all survived the apocalypse. Besides," he added, "you're a girl, he's a boy, you like each other…it's, like, the way of the universe or something philosophical like that. Stuff is always gonna screw with you two and you need to get over it."

He stood up and offered her a hand, hoisting her to her feet. Then he hugged her.

"Sorry for being such a nutjob," she muttered.

"Go see a therapist," he said. "And get up there. Poor dude's probably picking the petals off of flowers or something."

"Right," she sighed. "Thank you, Walt."

"Anytime, Hot Stuff." He shoved her towards the stairs. "Get your miserable butt moving."

On the roof, Zia didn't see any flower petals, just one very forlorn-looking Carter with his head in his hands.

He didn't look up as she knelt in front of him, just said, "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't you," she said. _"I'm _sorry. I should have told you I wasn't—I wasn't okay."

He just sighed, so she pushed his chin up with one still-trembling hand, shoving a few stray memories out of her thoughts—they'd done their worst for tonight.

"Where's my ring?" she asked him.

He blinked.

She smiled at him, saying, "Don't tell me you got yourself all worked up and didn't get me a ring?"

He blinked again, twice, then he finally seemed to process what she'd said and grinned. "Do you mean…are you saying—is that a yes?"

"Of course it is, silly. What else?"

He tackled her, laughing, and she held on as tight as she could because he was _real, _he was here, he was okay, and she didn't plan on letting go anytime soon.

O-o-O

**The return of Adrian, muahaha!**

**A few notes on things that may or may not have confused you:**

**1. Minha=Zia's older sister. Will go into more detail with her in later chapters.**

**2. The whole deal with Anisa almost dying/Walt having to do something to Zia (nothing nasty, he just had to drag her through hell and back—figuratively, of course) will also be explained.**

**I think that covers it…so, I hope you enjoyed!**


	19. Adrian

**ATTENTION: THIS STORY HAS HIT 200 REVIEWS!**

**Thank you all sooooo much and have I ever mentioned that every single one of you is awesome? Because you are. I know I've gotten really bad about replying to reviews and PMs and stuff like that, but oh gods, you have no idea how much **_**every single comment **_**you guys make gets me smiling and giggling like a pathetic idiot and I literally cannot thank any of you enough for being amazing.**

…**uhm, sorry 'bout that.**

**Warning: the actual title for this chapter is **_**WHOOPS okay yes hello I just what drowning in feelings here HELP, **_**but that wouldn't fit in the title box. So yeah.**

**[disclaimer]**

O-o-O

It's been almost two months and Zia still can't quite believe it.

A son. _Her _son.

She has a _child._

When she thinks that, it sounds so strange. She has a child. She's a mother.

_Wow._

She reaches out with one finger to gently, _carefully,_ stroke the little boy's arm, and he giggles and grabs her finger. His little hand can barely encircle her appendage, but his grip is firm and his smile is so bright it seems to light up the dark room.

"You're strong," she whispers, leaning down to kiss his hand. The baby giggles again—the sound automatically brings a smile to her face—and grabs a fistful of her hair, which he decides he doesn't want and instead stretches his little arm out to touch the gauzy fabric of her shirt. Evidently the shirt isn't that entertaining, either, because after a minute he releases it and presses his warm little hand to her throat. She laughs and he gives a squeal of delight, whether at the sound of her voice or the thrum in her neck she doesn't know, but she keeps whispering to him. "I love you, baby," she murmurs. "I love you so much. Daddy loves you too, and Aunt Sadie. You're going to grow up to be such a strong man"—she feels a little stab of _not my baby anymore _and mentally shakes herself because, honestly, he's not even two months old, she doesn't need to be thinking like this already—"and I'll always be here for you, I promise."

Zia stops talking for a moment, overwhelmed, and strokes her son's hair, which is straight and dark just like hers. She's not sure how well he can see her, dark as it is, but his eyes stay locked on her face and she just sits there for—well, she doesn't know how long, drinking in the sight of her baby boy, and he drops his hand from her neck and twists his little fingers in the sheets. Eventually she props her elbow on her knee, resting her chin in her hand, and watches him squirm on her legs a little, wave his tiny fist in the air and grasp at nothing, until he's almost worn himself out.

"Getting sleepy, are we?" she says wryly.

Almost like he's trying to prove her wrong, he lifts his head (another pang of _so grown up, _another mental shake, because if she's thinking this _now _she doesn't know what she'll do for the rest of her life), looks at Carter, and whimpers, reaching out with his free hand, the other still wrapped around her finger.

"Shh," she breathes, "let Daddy sleep."

"_Please _let Daddy sleep," Carter groans, and he pulls a pillow over his head, but she can hear the smile in his voice, the little thrill at the word. Still, she can't resist the urge to stretch out her foot and give him a solid kick in the leg—even if he doesn't deserve it for this, she's sure he _does _deserve it for something. More than half-asleep and unable to see her, his aim is still good enough to return the favor with a firm punch in the hip.

"Ouch," she mutters, more from reflex than actual pain.

"Not sorry," he grumbles.

Deciding she can get her revenge in the morning, when she's thinking straight, she picks up the baby boy and rests his head against her shoulder as she walks, trying to regain feeling in her feet, which have turned to pins and needles. She brushes her fingers through the ends of his hair again as he squirms and wiggles, trying to stay awake, but finally she feels his yawn and hears a gentle sigh as he exhales.

His eyes are already closed by the time she lays him down, his grip on her hand slacking until his arm falls at his side, and she stands there and watches him for a minute, letting this incredible feeling well up in her until she feels her heart might burst.

She leans down one last time, kisses her sleeping son, and whispers, "Goodnight, Adrian."

Then Zia turns around and crawls back into bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin because it's suddenly cold. Carter (whose head is once again on top of the pillow) rolls over and puts an arm around her, pulling her into his chest.

"Thought you were asleep," she whispers into his collar bone.

"Almost there." His voice is a slow rumble.

She smiles and reaches out, pinching his side—revenge is sweet—and he swats her shoulder, grabbing both of her wrists and pinning them between their torsos, wrapping one arm around her tight enough that she can't slip free. He rolls onto his back, dragging her with him until they're nose to nose.

He runs his free hand up and down her back, and says, "You're terrible, you know that?"

"Mmhmm." She twists a little. "Come on, let me go."

His hand moves from her back to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not until I get _my_ kiss goodnight," he grins.

She leans down and kisses him, and the kiss is soft and sweet and finally he loosens his grip on her ribcage. She slides her arms out to drape them around Carter's neck, and she feels his arms circle her waist.

"Night, _Mom," _he mutters into her neck.

She smiles. "Sleep well, Dad."

She closes her eyes and rests her head against his shoulder and sighs, because this, she decides, is what happiness must feel like.

O-o-O

**GUYS. I BROKE MYSELF. DROWNING IN EMOTIONS BECAUSE ZARTER AND WOULDN'T THEY HAVE THE CUTEST CHILDREN.**

**So if you need me I'll be curled up in a corner for the next few hours. Possibly crying. Sorry about my emotions.**


	20. Miss You

**I guess you could call this a companion to the previous chapter…I tried to make it mostly Carter/Adrian bonding, but Adrian's **_**such **_**a mama's boy (and a sweetheart; he's gonna grow up to be a healer) that it kinda got away from me. But their daughter would be such a fierce daddy's girl.**

**Anyway, the only character I own in here is Adrian. Everything else is Rcubed's.**

O-o-O

Sometimes Carter wished he didn't have to be a parent.

Not that he didn't love every second of it, or that he wouldn't do _absolutely anything _for Adrian, but he didn't want to have to be The All-Knowing Daddy all the time. He was supposed to be pulled together, have all the answers and the mystical power to fix anything.

He didn't have any of that. And it killed him. Especially on nights like these, when he felt so close to falling apart himself that he didn't know how he was supposed to plaster on the best fake smile he could manage and tell his son that it would be all right.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't try, so when his bedroom door creaked open and Adrian peeped in, wrapped in a blanket, and murmured, "Daddy?" Carter managed an exhausted smile.

"What's up, kiddo?" he asked, sitting a little straighter as Adrian padded across the room.

Adrian reached out his arms, and Carter gave him a boost onto the mattress. The little boy pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, looking up at Carter with watery amber eyes that were so much like Zia's it actually hurt, and said, "I miss Mommy." His voice was so quiet that Carter didn't almost catch the words. His chin trembled.

"Mommy'll be home soon," Carter promised.

Tears spilled out of his son's eyes, accompanied by a sobbing sound that made Carter feel like his stomach was being wrenched from his body. "How soon?"

"Soon," was all he said as Adrian crawled into his lap and really started to cry, because if he had to say aloud the actual amount of time he would fall apart.

"I wanna have her home _now," _Adrian sobbed.

Carter pulled his son up to his chest, wrapping the well-worn blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders, and whispered, "Me too, kiddo."

They sat like that for maybe half an hour, until Adrian's cries quieted a little and he peeked up with puffy, tired eyes and yawned. Carter's laptop beeped on the nightstand.

"Do you want to try and stay up to talk to Mommy?" Carter asked, and Adrian responded with a soft "Uh-huh" and a half-conscious nod.

"Sit up," Carter prompted gently, and reached over to click accept on the video chat.

Adrian wasn't the only one struggling to stay awake. Zia greeted them both with a massive yawn, leaning on the desk as though she was too exhausted to sit up straight. "Hey," she finally managed, then seemed to register that there were two people in front of her. "Adrian, sweetie, what are you doing up?"

"I miss you," he sniffed, rubbing his eyes. "When're you comin' home, Mama?"

Zia reached out, like she wanted to wipe the tears off his cheek, but of course it was just a computer screen. "I'll be home in a week, okay? Just seven days."

Carter took a deep breath. Seven days. _Armageddon _hadn't lasted seven days. This was ten times more painful.

Adrian slumped against Carter, yawning again, and Zia said, "Go to sleep, Adrian."

He nodded. "Love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, baby."

Adrian was already asleep.

"He was a mess last night," Carter said. "It started storming and he freaked out."

Zia sighed and rested her head in her hands. "I want to come home," she moaned. "I can't take another week of this. I'm sick of hotels and busses and planes and fast food. I miss you."

"I miss you too." He leaned against the headboard. "I can't sleep when you're not here. It sucks."

"Me either." She yawned for emphasis.

"At least try to sleep, okay?"

"Can't yet," she muttered. "Adam and Lindsey went to get food. We haven't eaten all day."

He frowned. "Eat and then sleep, okay?"

"I will." Adrian twisted in his sleep and Carter tightened his grip so he wouldn't fall. "I love you, Z."

"I love you too."

*#*#*

_Thunder crashed outside, accompanied by a blinding flash of white and the sound of the sky dumping sheets of frigid rain on the roof above them._

"_I didn't miss this part of living in New York," Zia mumbled, tucking her head under his chin._

"_No joke." He frowned and shivered—after three years of living in Egypt, he was freezing in the height of Brooklyn summer (which was all of eighty degrees). And to think that Felix had greeted them with a whine of how hot it was._

"_I hope Adrian's asleep," she yawned. _

_As if on cue, there was a panicked shriek of "Mommy!" from down the hall._

"_That'd be a no," Carter said as the door swung open and Adrian came running in. Zia picked him up off the floor, and he clung to her shirt, shaking._

"_Shh, it's just a thunderstorm," she promised him._

"_But it's scary," he whimpered._

_Zia slid Adrian off her stomach, letting him curl up on the mattress between herself and Carter, and kissed his forehead, saying, "It's just some noise and light, okay? Just noise and light."_

*#*#*

"I thought you told me you couldn't sleep when I wasn't here."

Carter smiled, eyes still closed. "I can't," he said, and reached for the sound of squeaking springs, grabbed Zia around the waist and pulled her as close as he could. He felt her arms around his neck and then her lips on his, and he didn't dare open his eyes because he'd seen enough of her over the last two months, but now she was home and he needed to _feel _her, to run his hands through her hair—longer than it had been when she'd left—and up and down her back.

"You promised Adrian you'd wake him up when you got home," Carter finally reminded her, reluctantly, because he didn't want to have to let go.

"I tried," she assured him. "I got a few words out of him, but he wasn't really awake. I doubt he'll remember it in the morning."

"I'm sure we'll hear from him as soon as he wakes up," he said.

He felt Zia's fingers brush his forehead, and he finally opened his eyes. She smiled and squirmed closer, until he could feel her heartbeat through her ribcage, thrumming alongside his own.

"I'm glad you're home, Z," he whispered.

She buried her face in his neck, and he tightened his grip on her. "Me too," she sighed.

His arms didn't slacken until he fell asleep.

O-o-O

**Three things: one, I need to write stuff with thunderstorms more often, because right after I did we got some much-needed rain.**

**Two, the names Adam and Lindsey were chosen merely for the sake of my own personal headcanon as to why Zia was gone, but they **_**are **_**real people. Leave your guess as to their full names/where I might have heard of them, and if you get it right I'll mention you in the next A/N, therefore gifting you with bragging rights for awesomeness!**

**Finally, I totally stole the "just noise and light" line from I'mDifferent-GetOverIt's story **_**Just Noise And Light.**_** Go read it if you love stories with little kids—she writes Toddler!Zia so well it'll make you squeal. Actually, go read it anyway, because I said so.**

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	21. Those Three Words

**Hi. So I haven't updated in a while, and I'd apologize but I've gotten kind of ticked off at the reviewers of , so I won't.**

**Dear Moonlight1234: since you're an anon, I can't send you a PM and spare you the humiliation about to come. You said, so eloquently, "They get together in the Serpent's Shadows while Zia's an old man..YOU HEARD NOTHING!"**

**Ignoring your poor usage of capitalization, I'd also like to suggest you look a little closer at the story you're reviewing. If you do, you may see that the date first published is well before the release of **_**The Serpent's Shadow. **_**You're correct, I **_**heard**_** nothing—but I did read the book. The events of this story are comprised entirely of speculation based on the first two Kane books. I'm really not the one who looks stupid here.**

**Speaking of TSS, I never did rant about it, but I just need to say that I **_**called that school for the arts thing, I totally called that! **_**(Not that I ever actually wrote anything about it, but it's a wonderful feeling when your headcanon comes true.)**

**Dear coolguy: You are also anonymous. I am sorry that you think Adrian is boring, but I will continue to write with him. And I don't know what I was thinking, since you never specified what "it" was that was "horrible" and "super bad". Nothing I can do, really, but if you think my story's so bad, may I suggest you don't read it?**

**Last but not least, a sincere thanks to all the reviewers who have left messages over the last twenty-one (!) chapters with constructive criticism, praise, and xo's. I've been hugged and kissed a lot, and appreciated them all. May you all receive many weasel cookies!**

**Oh, almost forgot: the Adam and Lindsey from last chapter were meant to be Adam Young, better known as Owl City, and Lindsey Stirling, better known as a flawless individual and my girlcrush because wow she's a cutie. Look them up, they're both great musicians.**

O-o-O

Sometimes Carter wondered why _after _he'd settled into Brooklyn House, _after_ he'd lived in the same time zone from more than a week, was when his sleep patterns went screwy. Even traveling all over the world, he'd usually managed to get in a solid six hours—even if one or two of them had been half hour naps snatched in planes or taxi cabs. Now he was lucky to get three or four, and not a very restful three or four either.

At least he had company. Zia was sitting on the floor, on the other side of the coffee table, notebook laid out in front of her. He could hear her muttering and erasing and muttering some more as she worked on something or other for some speech class—he was too out of it to recall the details.

He sighed and gave up on the book he was reading; he didn't have the patience necessary to deal with the mess of despicable characters and and miserable parties that was _The Great Gatsby—_even if it did have the best drunk driving scene in all of literature. It would just have to wait until the morning.

He looked up to ask Zia how she got past Tom's pretentious attitude—and choked.

She was twirling her pencil through the fingers of her right hand, her eyebrows furrowed as she pouted at the notebook in front of her, her left hand absently tucking her hair behind her ear, and her shoulders were hunched forward in concentration and he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

She was beautiful and he was an idiot.

"Staring is rude," she informed him after a few moments of his gaping—without looking up, of course—and he opened his mouth to apologize but how was he supposed to talk when his lungs had shriveled up and crawled into his throat? All he could manage was "Um—uh—did you…ever decide what speech you were going to do for contest?"

God, he sounded like a blithering moron. A thousand witty responses that anyone else on the planet could have retorted with but he was the one who started to talk about _speech contest, _which he didn't know the first thing about anyway and he sounded so _stupid _but how could he think when she was just sitting there looking like the amazing human being she was and he was in _love _with her and he couldn't even tell her that because he was choking on his Adam's apple—

"Yeah," she said absently, blissfully unaware of the mental whirlwind across the table. "I thought I'd write the witch from _Hansel and Gretel _defending her case in court. The anglerfish would have been fun, but no one would understand the parasite joke." She looked up and gave him a smile that made his stomach melt and trickle down into his feet.

Her eyebrows pulled back together with concern. "Are you okay?"

No. He wasn't okay. He was hopelessly and permanently and _actually _in love and maybe had been for a long time now and he was more terrified than he'd ever been in his life. After all, he was seventeen, she was just barely eighteen (her birthday was before his, which didn't mean much except that it gave Walt a few months to make cougar jokes) and what was he supposed to know about being in love with someone? How was he supposed to look across the table at this beautiful woman in her holey sweatpants and realize that _this was it, this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with _and not have a heart attack?

He wanted to brush off her question, to say "Fine" and leave his emotional trainwreck for another day, another conversation.

But she deserved better than that.

"I love you," he choked out.

She froze. Then, slowly, she dropped her pencil on the table and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Oh," she said.

She took a deep breath and started gathering up her books.

"Zia, wait—" he started to say, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't," she said. "I just…I need to think." She balanced her texts and notebooks in one arm and squeezed his hand with the other. "I just need space, okay?"

She walked as fast as she could to the stairs.

*#*#*

He definitely did not get six hours of sleep that night. He spent most of the night awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Zia, whom he seriously doubted was thinking about him. She'd probably spent five minutes deciding that he was a complete moron, that she'd had enough of his ridiculous infatuation, and then rolled over and dreamt of strangling giant snakes or something like that.

How on earth was he supposed to look her in the eyes tomorrow?

He was an idiot. A complete imbecile. He should have kept his fat mouth shut.

But how could he?

*#*#*

He didn't see Zia at breakfast, which was kind of a relief. No way was he prepared to deal with the tongue-lashing that was surely coming to him. He didn't see Sadie, either, which was weird; Zia may have gotten up early to avoid the crowd, but Sadie was not a morning person in any sense of the term. And there was no _way _she'd sleep through breakfast.

It made a little more sense when both Zia and Sadie stumbled in the front door, dripping sweat and some gooey substance he associated with demons and monsters. He decided it was best not to ask.

His expression must have been pretty good, because Sadie opened her slimy arms and said, "Come give me a hug, brother dear."

"Pass," he said, and loaded his plate with hash browns.

He felt a very sticky embrace from behind, and turned around to make a snide comment that he forgot immediately when he realized it wasn't Sadie. It was Zia. She wiped some monster goo off her mouth and said, "Kiss?"

"Er, maybe later," he stammered.

She grinned and planted a kiss on his neck, anyway, which caused multiple trainees to suggest they get some privacy.

"I love you," she murmured, her mouth next to his ear.

He was so stunned, pinned to the spot he was standing in my sheer elation—_she doesn't hate me, she loves me—_that he didn't move until she poked her head back around the door to yell, "By the way, you might want to shower before you eat—this stuff starts to burn!"

He ran. He was definitely going to get this goop off soon—but first he was going to try his best to tackle his girlfriend.

O-o-O

**What he's going to do if he ever manages to tackle Zia, I don't know. It also seems to be a counter-productive course of action; he's already covered in slime. But he probably won't catch her because Zia is a ninja. I'm 99% sure of that.**


	22. Treat You Right

**GUYS GUYS GUYS SON OF SOBEK OH MY GODS OF EGYPT **_**GUYS**_

_**PERCY JACKSON AND CARTER KANE SASSING EACH OTHER GUYS I'M SCREAMING**_

**hALP**

**um anyway it's going to be hard to make this AN coherent but basically this is when Carter's in the awkward new-boyfriend stage (I think that's a thing but I wouldn't know, having never been in a romantic relationship myself) and Zia is not as awkward because I think by definition she is incapable of being awkward ever**

**and yeah that's all I guess**

**(yes I used a Tom Hiddleston quote, no I don't care because he really is a wonderful dude)**

O-o-O

"_You should treat your love like a princess…Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but to respect the woman you love should be a priority."_

_-Tom Hiddleston_

*#*#*

Sometimes Zia wondered how Carter hadn't had a girlfriend before her.

She _knew _why, of course—he'd never been able to stay in one place for more than a few weeks at a time. Even now, post-apocalypse and having a permanent residence, he was always running off somewhere on some errand for Amos. Sadie claimed it was annoying, but Zia didn't think so—usually because she was with him, because she'd learned by now that leaving any two members of the Kane family to their own devices wouldn't end well.

But that still didn't explain Carter's claims that there had never been anyone _remotely _interested in him—she wasn't quite sure she believed him, actually. He was certainly attractive—not _hot,_ as Sadie said her friends had once put it, but cute, with that golden child smile of his that seemed to light up his whole face and his demeanor of quiet excitement.

But what really astonished her was how incredibly _kind _he was.

No, she mused, _kind _wasn't the word. Carter had his moments when even she was scared of him, although never directed toward friends. Besides, there were plenty of boys she knew who were kind. Walt, Felix, even Julian, when he wasn't making a conscious effort to annoy her. Maybe the word she needed was _courteous._

It was courteous—and adorable—the way he'd pulled her chair out for her at lunch, and the way he'd blushed and stammered after she reminded him that she had two perfectly fine arms of her own, thank you.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the scraping sound of sneakers crossing concrete drew level with her, and Carter sat down, sliding his legs under the terrace railing so his feet were dangling next to hers over the East River.

"Hi," he said. "Thinking about the meaning of life?"

"Thinking about you, actually," she replied, and grinned when his ears turned red.

"Right," he said, slowly. "Um, generally not a good idea to think of scary things late at night. You might have nightmares."

She snorted. "Please."

He returned her smile and reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulders, then stopped, his skin hovering inches away from her own. "Uh…may I?" he asked, biting his lip.

Her grin slipped away as she wondered what on _earth _he was talking about, and her eyebrows furrowed—and then it dawned on her, and she could feel her own gaze soften as she tugged on his wrist until his arm settled over her.

"You don't have to ask," she told him gently. She scooted closer and rested her forehead against his shoulder—partially because it was getting chilly and partially because whatever cologne he was wearing smelled _really _nice.

His chin rested on her head, and she could hear the rumble in his neck as he said, "I will."

She sat up. "Why?"

The fingers resting against her upper arm twitched nervously. He shrugged, and stared at the ground as he said, stammering slightly, "I, uh—this is going to sound really cheesy, feel free to slap me or something, but—I want to treat you right." He shrugged again and picked at a loose thread on his shirt.

Insensitive as it was, Zia couldn't help it. She laughed.

"What?" he demanded, his eyebrows scrunching together as he looked at her.

She shook her head in silent wonder, still chuckling, and wrapped her own arms around his neck in a hug. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," she muttered.

"You're being ridiculous."

And all she could do was smile, because it had occurred to her that he was the first person that she could remember ever touching her like this, and she wasn't flinching away.

O-o-O

…**um, "Must Have Done Something Right" by Relient K popped up on iTunes near the end of this, if that helps explain the awkward ending part thing you know what I need to go to bed this is what I get for doing speech contest and getting up at 5 am. **

**/end ramble**


	23. Lay Me to Sleep

**Ugh. This might be a little incoherent near the end because my head is stuffed full of gunk (yay colds), I'm warning you now.**

**You will see many italicized words at the beginning of the story. This is a playlist specifically for this chapter (and the possible upcoming companion that I can't get out of my head thanks to Tori) and I recommend you listen to it as you read, preferably in the order written. They add a lot to the story.**

**I don't own, and enjoy!**

O-o-O

_herons – balmorhea; swallowed in the sea – coldplay; i will follow you into the dark – death cab for cutie; noble maiden fair (a mhaighdean bhan uasal) – emma thompson & peigi barker; transatlanticism – death cab for cutie; baleen morning – balmorhea_

*#*#*

Zia was glad that the view over Heliopolis was decent, because she'd be seeing a lot of it, since she wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon.

She rested her head against the window frame, chewing on her lip, tapping her fingers against her forearms, tracing patterns on the floor with her toes. She was never this jumpy unless something was seriously wrong.

She flinched when she heard the door creak open. A pair of feet shuffled across the floor, and there was a loud creak as someone flopped unceremoniously onto the bed. There were another few squeaks as a body shifted, and then Carter let out a familiar groan.

"At least take your shoes off before you pass out," she said without turning around.

There were two soft thuds—she'd only been guessing that he was still wearing shoes, but she supposed he'd slid his sneakers off.

"You should get some sleep," he said, his voice slurred.

"Can't." Her fingernails dug into her skin.

"Zia." She turned around, and he held an arm out. "C'mere."

She walked across the room and sat next to him, and while he rested his head in her lap she hung her own head back, gods she was _tired, _but she couldn't fall asleep; her limbs ached with the need to run and fight and scream. Her lips turned up at the corners in a not-quite-smile when Carter surreptitiously slid his fingers around her wrist and checked her pulse.

"You're freaking out," he finally said, and rubbed little circles on her wrist with his thumb.

"Uh-huh." She bounced her foot on the floor. She needed a nice, long run. Or maybe an oxygen mask. She wasn't sure whether her lungs or legs hurt more.

Slowly, he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He pulled her to her feet and with one hand he reached out and pressed a button on the alarm clock/mp3 dock that she could never get to work, and as he lead her back to the window soft music started playing and swelled until it filled the whole room.

"Sneaky," she mumbled, and held back a yawn, because there was a draft blowing in and the cold always made her sleepy, and because the music really did make her want to lay down and not move for the next decade.

"I try." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

She tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs refused to function properly, and the best she could manage was a strangled little puff, and when she closed her eyes that little puff of air condensed into little silver bubbles that spiraled upward into the water pressing on her lungs, the water that was drowning her—

"Zia," he said. "Tell me where you are."

She opened her eyes and tried to remember. "Egypt."

"Not good enough." He kissed her forehead. "Where are you?"

She shook her head. She was too many places. She was drowning, she was burning, she was dying—

"Zia, you're safe. You're home. Do you believe me when I tell you that?"

She nodded.

"Listen. You are in your bedroom, in the First Nome, and you're with me, and we both need sleep. Can you sleep?"

That was a good question. She thought about it, for several minutes, and Carter rubbed her back and her shoulders and wound up playing with her hair before she finally said "Yes."

He kissed her forehead again, and guided her back to the bed, and as the music faded out and the song changed a sudden wave of exhaustion overtook her, and the ache drained from her limbs and they couldn't hold her up. She and Carter literally fell on the covers, across the width of the mattress, and she curled her feet up and yawned.

She could sleep. She didn't know if she'd stay asleep, or just how restful it would be.

But she could sleep.

O-o-O

**I swear, married!Zarter is literally my favorite thing to write ever. Ugh. Cuties.**

**Anyway, this will probably have a companion, but it won't be the next chapter posted because I actually overcame my tendency to procrastinate and I have a Valentine's Day chapter written and ready to go. Author's notes and everything. So that'll get posted on the fourteenth, and then I have this oneshot that I really want to write thanks to Marvel- Tolkein Fangirl, and then that companion thingy. These projects will be squeezed in between practices for things and actual original stories that need to be written for things. And essays for things. I have a lot of things.**

**Constructive crit is appreciated!**


	24. Baby Face

**So, y'all remember how last Valentine's Day, I wrote a mortal AU chapter thing?**

**It's becoming tradition. So here we have more awkward mortal Carter and snarky teenage Zia. And it shall be fun.**

O-o-O

Zia had never really understood the point of Valentine's Day. After all, if people really wanted to celebrate the story Saint Valentine, they would decapitate all Christians and ban marriage. But no, instead it was heart-shaped candies and confessions of true love.

More than a little confusing.

Not as confusing as the succession of seventeenth century English monarchs, however, which she was attempting to regurgitate onto the quiz in front of her. All the Charleses and Jameses got mixed up, never mind the not-king Oliver Cromwell and the random Mary thrown in.

She finished and flipped the paper over, and glanced around the room. Most of her classmates were still working. Carter was done, a book already open on his desk, although she couldn't tell what it was from two rows over. Probably his assignment for Novels class; at least his group picked decent books. Zia couldn't _stand _reading _Pride and Prejudice._

That thought brought her back to over-dramatized romance just as there was a knock on the classroom door, and three girls wearing red t-shirts walked in.

Zia knew one of them—Jaz was a senior, and spent probably ninety percent of her free time in the chorus room. She grinned out at the class. Everyone shifted uncomfortably, and she said, "Carter Kane?"

"No," he groaned, and buried his face in his hands.

"We've got something for you," Jaz said.

"No you don't." He pulled his hood over his head. "Go away."

All three girls started laughing as they surrounded his desk. One of them raised a pitch pipe to her lips and blew, and they all hummed the note for a second, and then in a three-part harmony they began to sing:

"_Baby face!" _They bellowed as one of the girls yanked Carter's hood off. _"You've got the cutest little baby face, there's not another one can take your place, baby face—" _ two girls forced Carter's hands away from his face _"—my poor heart is jumpin', you sure have started something!"_

Jaz pinched his cheek. _"Baby face, I'm up in heaven when I'm in your fond embrace, I didn't need a shove 'cause I just fell in love with your pretty baby face!"_

The girls wasted no time in rushing out the door to find their next victim, but over the obligatory applause Jaz yelled, "Your sister said to make sure it was extra embarrassing!"

"Mission accomplished," he moaned. Zia snickered.

It took several minutes, but the teacher finally managed to get the students settled enough to assign them "critical thinking" questions—the kind Zia hated, because they never really had an answer. As soon as he released them to partner up, if they chose to, the classroom exploded into conversation again.

Zia looked up from flipping to a clean page in her notebook when she heard the sound of a desk being pulled up next to her. Carter flopped into the seat. "Please shoot me in the head," he pleaded.

She hadn't meant to say it, had no idea why the thought popped into her head, even. But her first reaction was to grin and say, "We wouldn't want to ruin that pretty baby face of yours, would we?"

She felt her neck get hot even as his ears turned a deeper shade of red, and they both pointedly directed their gazes to the textbook.

"So, uh," he said, glancing at the projector screen, "did you think Charles I still held power up to his execution?"

She rolled her eyes. "Sure. 'Hey, Mr. Executioner, I know you're about to chop my head off because I tyrannized the people of England, but could you just wait until I say go? Thanks.' The fact that the executioner listened means either he was an idiot or Charles still had _some_ influence."

He laughed. "You can write that one down. I don't think I can accurately portray the sarcasm."

"It's just as well," she told him. "Your handwriting's a mess."

He snorted as he passed the notebook to her, but she ended up reaching for it at the same time and they both missed and grabbed each others' _hands _instead.

He released her fingers and flinched away like she was on fire.

She sighed. "How about you dictate and I write."

"Sounds good." His voice was weak.

She grabbed a pencil from where it had fallen on the floor, and started scribbling answers on the paper.

But she couldn't help noticing that his hands were _really _soft.

O-o-O

**AWKWARD ENDING YAY**

**Anywho that was fun.**

**I did not spend my Valentine's Day alone this year! I be spent it…with two girls…delivering singing valentines. Featuring selections such as "Baby Face" (see above), "You Are My Sunshine," "Gimme A Little Kiss," and "We Go Together." It was a ton of fun, though. Have a very happy Singles Awareness Day, everybody!**


	25. Sweet Dreams Be Yours

**Blah. Hi. So this, for once, is assuming that TSS actually took place—it's somewhere in between visiting Osiris and leaving on the hunt for the illegal magic stash, and this is mostly nonsensical but I don't care because I really needed to write some fluffy Zarter, especially since Tori made me almost-kill Zia in a minific the other day. Plus I got a dog and I wanted to write something with animals.**

**Anyway, any other chapters in this story relating to TSS will be identified as such in the AN. Otherwise, assume it's following the convoluted plot that you've seen in previous chapters.**

**Enjoy!**

O-o-O

Carter had been camping in a lot of different places—rainforests, deserts, mountaintops, you name it and he'd probably slept there. Although the Land of the Dead had never been on his list of top ten places to visit, however, he had to admit that it wasn't bad—as long as you could get over the smell of sulfur. It was pleasantly warm, thanks to the lava lake, and the Hall of Judgment had Although the Land of the Dead had never been on his list of top ten places to visit, he had to admit that it wasn't bad—as long as you could get over the smell of sulfur. It was pleasantly warm, thanks to the lava lake, and the Hall of Judgment had a wraparound porch—that probably wasn't the correct term, but Carter couldn't think of what else to call it—with views as good as you could get in the Duat.

Despite the warmth, he could see Walt shivering, huddled up in his sleeping bag and with a jacket on. Sadie had a piece of hair stuck to her bottom lip, and she was kicking out in her sleep every few minutes.

Zia seemed to be the only one who felt at home next to a lake of fire. She was curled up on top of her sleeping bag, her head pillowed on her arm. Her bare toes were taped, he'd noticed, like she'd broken some of them. He frowned when he realized just how beat up she was; he could see a bandage peeking out of the strap of her tank top, and one of her hands had a brace on it.

Funny—when she was asleep, it was obvious how tiny she was. How breakable. She couldn't be more than five-three, he realized with a start. He'd always felt like she'd towered over him, with her head and shoulders thrown back in defiance at the world, her chin raised in scorn. Now she seemed to have shrunk, curled in on herself; even her muscles seemed to have vanished, since they weren't straining in rage or anticipation.

Carter heard a clicking sound, and Ammit rounded the corner, sniffing the ground with his crocodile snout to the floor. He paused and gave Walt a thorough inspection, before nosing Sadie happily; she grunted in her sleep and flung her arm out wildly. Then he trotted (with his front half, anyway; his hippo rear did more of a waddle) over to Zia, gave her a good sniff, and licked her face.

"_Ack!" _she yelled, and started to sit up, but Ammit put his paws on her shoulder.

"He won't bite," Carter said, and Zia jumped again at his voice; evidently she hadn't noticed that he was awake.

She didn't respond. Instead, she wiped her cheek where Ammit had licked her, and said, dazedly, "It's _slimy."_

Her expression was such a perfectly balanced mixture of shock and disgust that Carter had to bite his knuckles to keep from laughing too loud. "Do _you _bite?" he asked, suddenly, without thinking, and flushed as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Only on Tuesdays," she said, sounding so serious that his jaw actually dropped, and then it was her turn to laugh at _him_. Ammit, apparently disgruntled by the lack of attention, nosed his way under Zia's palm, and yipped quietly, like he was saying, _Down here! _

Zia, hesitantly, scratched his little lion's mane with one finger. Ammit wagged his stump of a tail and flopped on the ground, rolling over to expose his belly, which Zia rubbed. Carter thought Ammit was going to faint from happiness.

"C'mere, Ammit," he said, clicking his fingers. "Leave Zia alone."

The monster whimpered, but rolled over and gave Zia's hand a farewell lick before he waddled over to Carter and curled up next to his sleeping bag. Carter lay down and scratched Ammit's ears, and when he looked up Zia had curled up again on her own sleeping bag. She smiled at him before she rolled over to face the lava lake—as she did so her tank top slid up to expose a good half inch of her bare back, but she didn't appear to have any intention of fixing that.

"This is gonna work, you know," he said, quietly. "We'll find the shadow."

He thought he saw Zia sigh, although it was hard to tell, since her silhouette flickered in the flames. She mumbled something that Carter didn't catch.

He closed his eyes and eventually drifted off into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

O-o-O

**For the record, I have no idea of crocodile tongues are actually slimy. I tried Googling it but all I got was a bunch of **_**James and the Giant Peach **_**quotes.**

**Oh well.**


	26. Heart-Shaped Pancakes

**Whoa, hey guys. Long time no see. (For a multitude of reasons: moving, junior year of high school being insane, crashed computer, Homestuck taking over my life, etc.)**

**Uh. I actually have a series of semi-important announcements, but I'll wait until I get to the end. Until then, happy Valentine's, and enjoy this hastily dashed-off fic!**

O-o-O

Breakfast for dinner was a Kane family tradition for most holidays, and as far as they were concerned Valentine's Day was important enough to merit heart-shaped pancakes, especially since this was the first year that Carter actually had someone to invite over for Valentine's.

He said a silent prayer in favor of his parents not embarrassing him—like they hadn't every other time Zia had come over, but whatever—as he slid across the entryway tile in his socks to answer the door. The latch caught, as always, and then he finally managed to wrestle the door open to a shivering Zia Rashid.

"How are you even cold?" he asked as she shrugged off her jacket and stepped out of her sneakers. "It's almost seventy degrees."

"It's freezing," she said, and waved back at Carter's dad and his shouted greeting from the kitchen.

"Not my fault you're a freakishly cold-blooded desert child," he teased her, and she punched his shoulder.

Carter's mom poked her head out of the kitchen doorway, blond hair up in a knot. "Hello, sweetheart!"

"Hi, Mrs. Kane," Zia said.

"Dinner isn't quite ready yet, but there's a dish of chocolates out in the living room for you kids to share."

"You're only telling me this now?" Carter demanded. "Sadie's probably eaten them all."

"Well, we'd better go grab some," Zia said, and took his hand to tug him through the door.

Between the two of them they managed to rescue a few handfuls of candy from Sadie, and Carter was enjoying the lingering aftertaste of chocolate when his dad called them in for dinner. There was a massive plate of pancakes waiting with a jug of syrup, and his mom's best plates set out on the table. Carter barely managed to suppress a snort when Zia spread her napkin over her lap—seriously, who _did _that?—although it didn't stop him from catching her fingers under the table, and tickling her palm as soon as she was in the middle of a "serious" conversation with his dad about a new hieroglyphic translation.

Everyone was on their second serving of pancakes when Carter's dad said, "Isn't your school having a dance tomorrow?"

"Yes, Dr. Kane," Zia said. "Actually it's the 'Sadie Hawkins dance', which is ridiculous, but no matter."

"Are you two going?" Carter's mom asked.

"Nah," Carter said. "Zia's insane and she has to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow."

"Four a.m, if we're going to get technical," Zia corrected him.

"On a Saturday?" his dad said.

"Speech sectionals are tomorrow," Zia said. "We have to leave early if we want any time to do warm-ups before our rounds."

"How do you warm up for a speech?" Sadie asked.

"Mostly tongue twisters," Zia said. "And a few acting exercises."

"Well, best of luck," Carter's dad said.

"Thank you," Zia said.

Due to the ridiculous early bus time, Zia wound up leaving right after dinner, but not before Carter snuck a good-bye kiss in the hall.

O-o-O

**Whew. Okay. Announcements!**

**I'm actually going to end this story here—sorry!—but I'm not done writing fic by a long shot; I've just set up shop elsewhere. You can find me on AO3 (archiveofourown dot org) as larkgrace, or—if you're into Homestuck—my other penname is fishprincessfeferi. Side note: you should read Homestuck, if you have an immature sense of humor.**

**Other announcements! MuseGirltheauthor (Katie) and I are actually writing a Kane Chronicles/Homestuck crossover fic sometime in the future, and it's going to be amazing, and include Zia meeting aliens and Walt being on the end of a million Grim Reaper jokes and Sadie hunting for frogs and Carter being adorably clueless. Did I mention Zia meeting aliens? Because it's hilarious. **

**We've actually finished the first story from that crossover 'verse—you can find it under my fishprincessfeferi penname; it's the first in a four-part series of one-shots.**

**Anyway. Happy V-day! May you all enjoy the abundance of smoochfic that I'm sure is flooding the archive.**

**-Callie**


End file.
